1994-'95 New Hot Waxes & A Thank You Note

Team Hot Wax, "West Coast" Division

My brother is in the middle. The two guys beside him are good friends from High School and surf trip companions, especially Mike in the yellow trunks holding the tequila bottle. 

They each have different Hot Wax T-Shirts on.  

(Cabo)

This was another year of Hot Wax Surf Shop expansion. We moved the store, once again, to a different mall space, and over night we grew from 1600 to 2000sq. feet. The new landlord was a real prick though. We rented the space as a one floor unit, and, after awhile, we needed more space, so, we asked the landlord if we could build another floor. We would have to take out the ceiling, add steps, and basically build a loft.
"Sure." He said, and he recommended his friend as a contractor. Since it was his place we were happy to use his connection. Within two months we had turned his 2000sq. ft. one floor rental space, into a 2000 sq. ft., with a 800sq. ft. loft = 2800 sq. ft. rental unit. And we paid for it all. We paid his friend..who, dully noted, did a real good job.

Hot Wax space #3 Wilmington

The expansion was perfect. We had the surf and travel equipment upstairs, and all the clothing, shoes, and skate stuff down stars. The landlord never said a word about anything while the loft was being built nor after it was completed. Then, about three months later, we got a letter from him saying he was going to raise the rent. He figured, after all, we were now renting more space from him. The landlord told us that once the old lease was up the rent would double, along with our Merchant Association fees. Mark and I started looking for options. (Within the next two years we would build our own space and move, but, more on that later.) When we told the landlord we weren't renewing our lease, the landlord sued us for the loft we had built with his contractor. He claimed we altered the space without him approving it and he wanted $30,000. We had to pay $2200 for an attorney to litigate. The attorney called in the contractor for questioning and the contractor lied about knowing the landlord. Finally, in arbitration, we settled. Mark and I had to write the landlord a check for $3000. The whole incident cost us over $5200+ what it cost to build the extra space! It was my first lesson on "no good deed goes unpunished."

Before we moved into the landlord's retail space he had his own rug store in it. When he and his wife moved their store to Raleigh, we rented the space from him. It was rumored that when he worked in his rug store he'd upset the customers with his sarcastic snootiness. No one in our area liked him. After we moved out of his space, and after the lawsuit was settled, all we heard of him was that he got a divorce and the wife got the rug store in Raleigh. Then a random thing happened...
Mark saw the landlord in passing and they got into a verbal confrontation.
"God will judge you as a thief!" Mark said in frustration. When Mark got angry he cursed.
"God can go **** himself!" the landlord yelled back at Mark. Mark was stunned silent, which was rare. He had subjective ideas about God but he knew one thing for sure, you don't say that!

Within the year the landlord stuck his neck in the loop he made at the end of his rope.
I wanted to feel sad but I was more perplexed. Why wouldn't someone want to simply change their philosophy if the one they have isn't working for them? There's a lot of books to choose one from.

Hot Wax Carolina Beach

This was the year we opened a Hot Wax in Carolina Beach. Mark's brother's Hot Wax in Atlantic Beach had shut its doors long ago and he'd been doing odd jobs since. We put him to wok at the CB store. 

At this time there weren't many people who went down to CB, and even less people there had money to spend on expensive surf cloths and sunglasses. We didn't sell much outside of t-shirts and key-chains, however, we did sell a lot of surfboards to the CB locals, unfortunately, that didn't pay the shop's bills. 

On top of it all, the building we rented leaked and it had bug problems. We were always finding spiders in the sweatshirts and webs between the boards. The wetsuits would be filled with nests of cockroaches in no-time. Ants liked the surf wax and infiltrated Mark's brother's lunches. The windows would let in puddles of rain and we couldn't even lock the sliding class doors that were at the back of the shop correctly due to the rotting wood. Mark and I were constantly doing repairs to the place and spraying pesticides. Eventually we shut down the CB store and focused only on the one in Wilmington. Marks' brother started shaping surfboards with Mark. 

HW Challenge at the CB Pier near Sunskipper. 

In 1994 we held the Hot Wax Challenge at CB for the first time. Wrightsville Beach was asking us to jump through too many hoops to get the permit needed to hold the event at Crystal Pier like we had been doing. They were also asking for more money and more Port-A-Johns. Then there were the parking issues. Carolina Beach had non of this. We could hold the contest without a Council Meeting, permits, and extra added fees. We still had to rent plenty of Port-A-Johns however. 

By this time we had a couple of pros like Ben Bourgeois, and pro turned Billabong rep Wes Lane come surf the contest. A lot of other industry reps who lived on the east coast (mostly from Virginia Beach) came to surf too. The prizes were so good and there was usually decent surf. These pros-turned-reps brought give-aways for the bystanders and the winners. Most of the stuff was their out of season samples, but we didn't care, as long as we had goodies to give away. The CB surfers won a lot this year and were excited about the clothes they got. They had little in the way of means because most CB kids were from poor families and became high school drop outs. I was always excited when they won surf trunks, t-shirts, and sweatshirts. They appreciated them a lot and surfed hard for them! 

On the personal side, this was the year I spoke to a group of kids at Trask Middle School about surfing and making good life decisions. Teaching came easy for me but being a motivational speaker was a little strange. For example when I coached my daughter's Optimist Club softball team I could teach the tools for playing a good game, but, I wasn't really good at motivating the players to do their best. I always thought it was because of my attitude, "if you want to do it you would," much like exercising to keep weight down. I believed if I could do step class at the gym three days a week and lift weights two days to stay strong and slim, why couldn't anyone if they really wanted too? And if Mark and I could build a small business from nothing and make it something, why can't everyone make their dreams come true? All it takes is consistency. My Mom calls me tenacious. Maybe it takes a little of that too.

Surfing, snowboarding and dirt bike riding taught me that we go where our eyes go.  I remember one time at Snowshoe when I was racing my son down Widow Maker, for some reason I focused on a snow machine. I ran right into it. It's true that when we look ahead our minds process a path, and, freewill states that people get to choose what they look at. If we look straight down while moving we don't have time to understand upcoming obstacles. Once while riding my dirt-bike I crashed into a tree because I was looking down at all the rocks I was going over. I didn't have time to adjust when a turn in the trail came up abruptly. Now I try to keep my eyes off of the setbacks and on the goal. When I do this I seem to get somewhere. Surfers call it setting the line. 

1993-'94 Costa Rica #2 & Personal Stepping Stones

Costa Rica

For a few summers we sent Shaun and Sarah to California for a month to visit with my family. My Mom used to do the same thing with my brother and me when we were young. She'd send us to Seattle to spend long stretches of time with our Grandma. I loved it too! I was such a tomboy and there were a lot of things to climb and jump from on Queen Ann Hill where she lived. From Grandma's windows I could see the Space Needle, Boeing (where My Granddad worked and had a stroke), Puget Sound, and Mt. Rainier. It was spectacular. Sometimes we'd spend our Christmas vacations in Washington too. 

While there I was in the habit of catching snakes. One day I caught over twenty of the skinny black creatures and put them in a box. I left the box in the middle of Grandma's living room. When she came home from work, (she worked at the Bon Marche), she found the box full of snakes and screamed, "TAMMY! GET THESE THINGS OUT OF THE HOUSE NOW!!!!" and she ran out the door to a neighbors. 

For some unknown reason I got the dumbest idea...

"Hey,"I said to my brother, "let's send the snakes down the laundry shoot. That way we can put them out in the back yard." Grandma had a hole in the linen closet that went straight down to the basement where her washer and dryer were. The hole was about a foot in diameter.  

"Ok!" said my brother, and he ran down stairs to the basement to catch the snakes. I grabbed the box and ran to the shoot, "Are you ready?" I asked my brother.

"Yep." I heard from below. I can see his face looking up at me. Excitedly I turn the box over and started pouring the twenty wiggly Garter Snakes down the 1ft. hole. I had to herd them to get them all down.

"WOA. STOP!" I heard my brother scream and shuffle. I looked down the hole and saw twenty snakes darting in all directions around the washer and dryer, lawn equipment, tools, and boxes. My brother was getting them off of his face. "Not all at once idiot!" he yelled.

"Grab 'em!" I hollered. 

"Daaahh! Come help stupid!" It took us an hour to catch 16 snakes. We couldn't find the rest. Grandma never knew.

Grandma's House. My brother and I are on the left. 

   

This year while my children were with their Grandma and Grandpa in Huntington Beach, Mark and I took our second trip to Costa Rica.    

I always liked going to a place more than once. One gets the chance to do the "should haves." For instance we looked the four-wheel-drive rental truck over much closer this time, and we asked for two spares. Good thing too. Another advantage is knowing how to get to all the surf spots. My spanish still wasn't very good, and I really sucked in the field of directions. A Tico will add phrases like, turn at the pig in front of the bank, or, stop after the fifth gate where the two polls are on the left. "No problem." I'd reply totally bewildered.  

But the best thing about going to a place the second time is knowing what NOT to bring. 

I was never a Prima Donna. To date I've never had a pedicure or a manicure, however, I'll admit, I can pack a bag full of outfit options, matching shoes, tons of toiletries including hair products, sunbathing necessities, and books. Costa Rica taught me how to enjoy real simplicity like...swimsuits, tank tops, board shorts, one dress, rainbow sandals, one set of very old sneakers, undies, two beach towels, and a good hat. I still took books. Mark and I would pack a water-proof (good for boat rides) bag with surf supplies like wax (we brought lots to give away to local surfers), ding repair kits, extra fins, rash shirts, booties for walking over rocks, sunscreen, and two sets of flippers. We also packed lots of candy, stickers, yo-yos and bubble stuff for the young local kids. Mark would take three boards, a 6', a 6'8", and a 6'10" big wave board. I'd take two, my 5'4" and 5'6". It got to the point that I bought all my toiletries from the local markets when I traveled. This lightened my suitcase a lot and helped out the local villages.

Something I learned the hard way was the importance of making copies of all my identifications like driver license, birth certificate, card numbers, and passport. I learned that lesson along with, don't take anything you don't want stolen. Hiding stuff is mandatory. Before surfing, Mark or I would sit under a tree checking out the surf. While doing that we'd slowly dig a hole by wiggling our toes and feet. Then we'd stick a zip-lock containing our important things in that hole and burry it. We also left our truck window down and the doors unlocked. Sometimes we'd get out of the water to find our beach towels gone, but that was "no problem." 

FYI: When you travel out of the country, you have to have a minimum of six months left on your passport.   

  

We flew to San Jose and headed straight for Jaco. This trip we surfed Hermosa at 8ft. The waves were thick and felt like a hammer when they broke on my head. No matter how small Hermosa is, the inside will nail you to the black sand beach in no time, and when its really big, well, look out. Hermosa breaks boards. The waves are fast, hollow, and sweet. It's great for powerful maneuvers. Sometimes the drops are so quick it's free-falling steep. When paddaling back out I learned to bob-and-weave between the peaks and the people taking off so I wouldn't get hammered so much. The place can get a little crowded and the peeks shifty, but its fun and a real nice beach.  

This trip we traveled to Dominical but the waves weren't that good there, so, after spending the night we headed back up north to Tamarindo. Two flat tires, one speeding ticket, and multiple stops for fruit, souvenirs, and outhouses later, we pulled up to 6ft. Playa Negra and a Costa Rican sunset. We were elated! We went up the road to what was then the small town of Tamarindo, got a room at the Pueblo Dorado and settled in. For the next few days we surfed Playa Langosta, Avellanes, Witches Rock, Ollie's Point and all the river mouthes in between. The waves were 6 to 8ft. the whole time and the winds were light most of the time. 

This was a great trip. Costa Rica is heaven for a person who likes rights point breaks, warm clear water, and hamburgers the size of your head. And at this time there were plenty of uncrowded places to paddle out, because all there were were bumpy dirt roads and cows. Everything was cheep and getting a boat for a surf excursion was an interesting adventure in itself. Over the years things would change a lot. 

My Dad

On the personal side, this was when I got in touch with my Dad for the first time. My Mom and he were divorced when I was 2, and Mom moved my brother and I to California shortly after. I only saw him once when I was 11. We all went to his sister's (my Aunt with her big family) who judged my Dad as a sinner lost forever. That visit lasted a day and I don't remember much of it. Except I recall I stole a training bra from my older cousin. It was my first bra. 

What I knew of my Dad was from papers I found in boxes stored in my Grandmothers basement. The papers were of a lawsuit for child support. I didn't understand the words back then so I lost interest quickly. Occasionally I'd ask questions but the answers were so vague so I stopped asking. My Mom never said a bad word about him, however, she would say I was a lot like him. My Grandmother said he was a Smuck and left it at that. In 1994 I started becoming curious as to all the blood running through my veins. How much of it was Smuck blood and how much Finnish blood? 

I called my Aunt to get his address. Her reply was... 

"Here it is, but why would you want to waste your time? You Dad is a looser. A total waste of space. The Devil breaths down his neck and he likes it." she said over the phone.

"A lot of reasons." was my reply, "And I have no expectations." That was true too. If the man had remorse I wanted him to know that it was not needed for me. I understood the fallen nature of humans and I forgave him for not being involved with me long ago. Stuff happens, life is crazy, and my parents were very young. My Mom took very good care of his-and-her children and gets major props for it. I will always love and respect her for all she gave up for me. She's my Mom and has my heart. But, at this point in my life, my Dad was a man who held some of the keys to my human nature and I wanted to know what they were. I also wanted him to know that my brother and I turned out pretty well and he didn't need to worry. So, I wrote him a letter, and sent it to Spokane Washington, where he had been the whole time.  

In the letter I told him all about my Mom, brother and me. The letter had pictures of every one including his grandkids in it. He wrote me back telling me a little about himself. It was really cool. We did this for awhile and we mailed each other Christmas gifts. Then it stopped for some reason. 

Later I went to my first Dunning family reunion. I hoped to meet him there. He didn't show. My Aunt and Uncle were there, and I met my younger half-sister and half-bother from my Dad's second marriage. I also met a lot of other Dunning family people. Most of them were from my Granddad's second marriage so, they weren't really blood relatives. I took the kids with me and we were warmly welcomed. I think it was because we were novelties with this Indiana farmland family. We were surfers from the beach, and offsprings from the the Black Sheep of the family. I knew I liked my Dad when I heard he was a loner....much like Jack Kerouac. Unfortunately I would not meet him until I was over forty. That was when I found out my Mom was right, my Dad and I have a lot of the same natures. 

The house that the reunion was at had lasted three generations of Dunnings. Shaun asked my step Grandmother if he could take a very old book, (A Wounded Heart by Charles Garvice. Published 1901. First addition hard cover!) I was fascinated with. "Sure." the Matriarch said. Shaun gave me the book for Mother's day. My kids have me so figured out. 

                         

The Dunnings. I'm on the right, with my half sister and half bother.

The kids are in this picture too. Where's Waldo? 

This year I went to a local Bible study at CB that was run by a friend. We'd all chat and then paddle out together. Ultimately, the Paster was far too gentle and kind in his preaching and I soon got bored. He didn't want to step on anyones toes and I respected him for that, however, I like to step on toes. Hell, I'll stomp on anyone's religious feet if they stick them out with the intent of kicking. These CB studies were more evangelistic in content and I found them extremely milky. Going proved I needed another Bible however, and I got myself Bible #4 and retired #3. Its pages were falling out in chunks, and I had written notes everywhere within its 66 books.  

I'm on the left

Bible #4 is a NIV Study Bible with lots of historic information. This would be the Bible I would take around the world with me, along with historic readings from the dawn of civilization. I liked reading the Bible in the mornings with coffee. Still do, but now I'm on Bible #5. The historic information in my new Study Bible got me interested in Western Civilization along with Greek and Roman Mythology. To date these studies still interest me. It was another reason, in 1994, that the church handled me with care. The history of God, Man and Beliefs became a passion with me. The whole thing about Jesus made perfect sense, so, I never waver on him being the Son of God, however, I was finding out that there were a lot of dimensions to that revelation. Studying myths helped my understanding of Devine Royal Sonship. I was also learning more about the Catholic Saints and how human they were. My studies gave me a natural high I quickly got addicted too. Mark didn't read the Bible much. He was more of a "practical" man and felt that God was letting him be The Boss of his own world. We had different definitions for the word Faith.  

1992-'93 Surf Expos & Traveling The East Coast

By this time Hot Wax had been opened six years and Mark and I had been to over twelve Surf Expos. We'd go to Orlando in January to buy for the Fall and back to school. Then we'd go again in September to buy for the following Spring and Summer. The reps would come by and show us their Holiday lines. Sometimes Mark and I would take a tip to California and go to the Expo at Long Beach. Those were fun because we were able to surf So. Cal.. Body Glove would put on big extravagant fashion show at the Expos during this time. I looked forward to watching them. When the economy started slowing down in the mid nineties a lot of surf companies had to cut expenses. Fashion shows turned into skate demos. 

Pros were a regular at Expos. Sometimes we'd go out to dinner with a few. My encounter with Mark Warren removed all the "ahs" I ever had for pros and I found Surf Expo conversations boring. To me, surfing was becoming too retail bound, and even though I was living off of it, I found the ego-driven Peter-Panish attitude uninteresting. I got tired of hearing how every one rips and that each company had the cutting edge of anything in their clothing or accessory lines. The shinny spot of Expos was catching up with old friends from Huntington Beach who were in the surf industry like Robert August, Greg Wade, and Reggie Barnes. I'd see Eddie Rothman from Hawaii, and long time friend Jonathan Paskowitz when he worked for Black Flys. Occasionally I'd spot other friends from high school walking the isles which was always fun. 

Over the years the Surf Expo had gotten so large it took all of the three days to get through it. From open to close Mark and I had back-to-back appointments with at least thirty surf clothing venders, fifteen shoe companies, and all the other distributors selling merchandise we needed to fill our 1600 square foot shop. We had cornered the skate shoe market in Wilmington and surrounding cities, and were investing over 30% of our buying power to it. One entire day of the Expo was devoted to looking at hundreds of skate shoes alone. 

As far as surfboards, Mark was working hard at keeping the shop well stocked with ProLines and was succeeding. Because Mark shaped so many custom boards, it got to the point that every time I paddled out, there were two or more people out on ProLines. Carolina Beach surfers rode them since they were less expensive than the other boards being brought in from California or Florida. Personally I was getting two to three boards a year, keeping a quiver of three, a 5'2", 5'4" and a 5'6" for hurricanes and traveling, I also kept a 5'6" out in California so I didn't have to pay the extra luggage fee when I went out there. My bother would take out that kneeboard and use it as a stand-up 360 machine when the waves were small at Magnolia St. HB. When I'd show up and pull the kneeboard from the board bag there'd be wax on the nose and tail. "Busted!" I'd tell him. 

We had to stop selling Roberts August's longboards because Mark could shape one for a lot less. Robert understood completely and never pushed the topic. I always looked forward to seeing him at the Expo. He was going to Costa Rica all the time and had great stories to tell. 

During this time Mark and I had invested in something called The Lipit. It was a small container that held sunscreen and goes on one's watch (or whatever).  To date I still use one. We found a manufacture to make the little container and all the tight bands to hold it in place. Then we printed the brown card that tells all about the Lipit. Mark and I had thousands of these made, and during the slow times at work we'd packages them up and sell them. At one point we tried to sell them at the Expo to a distributor, but some people thought "Mobile lip protection in a pod!" was odd.  Eventually, the business of the shop over shadowed the Lipit and we ended up with thousands boxed up in the storage room. We kept one prong on the behind-the-counter pegboard full of Lipits though, just in case someone thought they were as good an idea as we did for sun protection on the nose or lips. 

Mark and I did a lot of traveling up and down the East Coast for surfing. I liked Sebastian Inlet and the fun break at Spanish House in Florida a lot. The water was always warm which was nice when we went to the January Expo in Orlando. Mark and I would sometimes drive to Cocoa Beach or Satellite Beach to surf after the show. Sometimes we'd go all the way to Sebastian. 

I don't know if there's surf in Georgia but South Carolina has Folly Beach which I surfed once at three feet. The waves were so slow that day, but I hear they can get fun. I never saw a wave come in at Myrtle Beach so never planed on surfing there. The North Carolina cost has plenty of surf along its barrier island beaches. Sunset Beach, Holden Beach and Oak Island are good places to surf when hurricanes are heading up the Atlantic. In 1992 Hurricane Andrew gave Oak Island 12 ft. perfect sandy bottom head pounders. 

Moving farther up the NC coast one finds beach breaks at Carolina Beach and Wrightsville Beach which get all the seasonal swells that stir in the Atlantic. Further north is Topsail Beach. There's a hard core local scene much like Carolina Beach there. The Topsail Mafia leader played softball. Many days after surfing we'd chat about the latest in softball bats. He liked me and let me have any right next to the pier I wanted, and he kept my car from vandalism. I was grateful...still am. 

Further North is Emerald Island and Atlantic Beach. There beaches face South and are good summer breaks. My Mother-in-law had a trailer at Atlantic Beach so Mark and I would take the kids up there to hang out with family. I liked surfing the beach breaks that broke everywhere along the strand. There was never a crowd. 

Frisco Pier, Cape Hatteras 

Surf spots are everywhere along the Hatteras shoreline too.  Frisco faces South and picks up good hurricane swells. The Light house in Buxton has jetty surf that is always fun no matter how small or how big any swell gets. North of Buxton there's Avon, Rodanthe, and Nags Head. All good places to surf North swells with their deep water and fast inside tubes. There are plenty of both rights lefts on Hatteras Island. Anyone can find a wave that suits them there. It can get very big though. And the rip currents are deadly.  

I've surfed Virginia Beach and found the breaks crowed and annoying. The waves weren't that good either. I also surfed Atlantic City in New Jersey. The waves there were jetty good but, the water was pretty cold. Eventually Mark and I stopped traveling North for East Coast surf beyond Cape Hatteras and went South most of the time. 

Mark and I were really happy during this time. We lived the lives of surf professionals, entrepreneurs, family and travel. Mark may have been impertinent but he was romantic. The portable phone (cell phone) had just come out and one chilly winter morning I left the house in my new Maxima to do the surf report for the radio station. As I was driving down the road I heard something ringing under a towel I had in my car. I pulled over and answered the phone Mark had got me for my car. 

"Hello?" I said.

"Happy Birthday to you..." Mark sang with his quirky voice.

I was excited. Now I didn't have to get out of the car when it was cold or raining to call in the surf report.  

Mark was good to me like this. He liked to surprise me often with gifts. He pampered me like I was a Southern Debutante. Sometimes he had a way of making me feel like I had all the money and waves in the world. We were a good team. 

1991-'92 Splitting Hairs

My home in Heaven

(According to one of my Sunday School kids)

These days were God and my deepest moments. They were also the days of personal introspection. I believed it was my job as a parent to teach my children moral and ethical values. But first they had to be defined for me. These were the times I came face-to-face with words like Ignorance vs. Innocence, Judgment, and Devotion. In the end my beating heart towards God was broken by man, but I strengthened it with more God.  

 I was fully committed to my 6th grade Sunday School class which kept me focused on the youth at church. I was also teaching a Bible study at my house that included older youth group teens. Eventually most of the teens coming were past Sunday School students. I had a good foundation with the Bible because I'd been reading it since the 70s, and the more I researched for my lessons, the more I questioned what I was being taught at church. The truth was, I was bored with all the repetitiveness and generalizations. I began studying theologies from around the world to see if they had any validity. 

Presbyterians have teachings about God that are good but a little one-sided. This opinion of mine came out in my home Bible studies. For example I had a hard time with the once-saved-always-saved theory mixing with freewill. I questioned how spiritual gifts look in the light of predestination. I cheered for the antihero. I discarded whining pray-for-me people. And I defined Missionaries differently. I'm also so confused about the End Times that I only know it's coming. But, what really sent me to the "pray for her" group was my studies of other religions. I went to great lengths trying understand the other side of things, and it eventually got me in trouble with a lot of people.   

The Gate

When I started studying Jehovah Witnesses and Mormonism I'd invite the door knockers in to have a chat. I would listen to them share their salvation message then I'd ask questions. I found that they gave a lot of programed responses, much like the ones Christian give when they don't read the Bible on their own.

For starters I had a hard time understanding the JW's concept of Heaven... 

                                  The resurrection will reunite relatives with their loved ones

Believe it or not, it was pictures like this one in their Watchtower magazines that got me thinking the JW's don't understand the Bible's concept of spiritual beings which Jesus spoke of:

Matthew 22:29 But Jesus answered and said to them, "You are mistaken, ^(V)not understanding the Scriptures nor the power of God. ³⁰"For in the resurrection they neither ^(W)marry nor are given in marriage, but are like angels in heaven.

One day I simply asked. "In the afterlife does the age you are resurrected with remain the same for all eternity? And with 2 out of 3 marriages ending in divorce, which family are we talking about?" Then we'd compare Bible translations. I realized how different their Bible was compared to every other Bible I had in the house...and I had quite a few. I quickly noticed that Jesus wasn't even close to the same guy in their translation. I found that interesting. 

Then I chatted with the Mormons.

8And ^agave him power from on high, by the ^bmeans which were before prepared, to translate the Book of Mormon; 9Which contains a ^arecord of a fallen people, and the ^bfulness of the ^cgospel of Jesus Christ to the Gentiles and to the Jews also; 10Which was given by inspiration, and is confirmed to ^aothersby the ministering of angels, and is ^bdeclared unto the world by them—

They quickly confused me with their other Book Of Mormon that they used to explain the Bible....

 2Which commandments were given to Joseph Smith, Jun., who was ^acalled of God, and ^bordained an ^capostle of Jesus Christ, to be the ^dfirst ^eelder of this church; 3And to Oliver Cowdery, who was also called of God, an apostle of Jesus Christ, to be the ^asecond elder of this church, and ordained under his hand;
Something about all this seem Egocentric. One thing I learned long ago was to consider the source.

One day I had a couple of Mormon girls at the house trying to explain to me why I should listen to Joseph Smith over all the other Bibles in my house. I wasn't convinced and one of them got so frustrated with my questions she left in tears. I quit inviting any of the door knockers in after that.

Eastern religions sparked a healthy interest with me, they still do. I think there's a lot of truth in them, like their concept of meditation, fasting, and respect for nature, even human nature. Taoism too has merit with its equality of male and female attributes within every person. I still like to Yoga my way to inner-quietness, but I draw the line at calling myself a god. The Pharaohs did that and look where it got them.

The church softball team

My atheistic Father-in-law and I would discuss religious theology all the time. He was such an intellectual that he adored a good debate. He had a serious way of sharpening my verbal tools too. We'd talk so long that one day my Mother-in-law told Mark I had to stop "arguing" with the man. To her I was an antagonist. Mark thought so too. Even my Mom thinks I pick intellectual fights. My Father-in-law disagreed. 

The church had a divided view of me. Some enjoyed my independent spirit, others not so much. Some liked that I questioned and inquired. They understood the value in it. Others believed I was walking hand-and-hand with the Devil. In my opinion, big money churches with established Calvinistic approaches to the layman (ie. stuck-up politics) never really welcome the maverick. "You're a loose cannon," I was told, "even though you're a home run hitter for our softball team"...Ironic.

As long as my children were going to school and being involved with the Southern Presbyterian Church USA, I followed their definition of Submit. When the kids moved on, I came to find that submission to God was much more appealing. In the end the church's Wise Men decided they didn't like my independent studies nor did they like my tattoo. I was black listed. "We think you'll be happier at another church." they said, "And we're going to let Mr. Suit-and-tie take over your Sunday School class. He doesn't ruffle feathers." I was told. I was Ok with that. I'd been teaching for a long time and it was true, I needed to move on. Mark was on my side here, and we moved our family to another more contemporary church. It was the one started when one of our ministers rebelled and left taking half the congregation with him. Ahhh...schisms as usual.

Mark and I were at the church for over 18 years, and I have to admit that in the grand scheme of predestination, the time there was very good for me and my spiritual development. It was also good for my family. The kids benefited form the church tremendously and Mark made friends that have lasted through his drug days that lie ahead.

PS. Mr Suit-and-tie who the Wise Men gave my class to was arrested for child molestation. Ironic.

1990-'91 The Beginning Of My 30s

Avellanas Costa Rica

This was the time Mark and I started traveling for waves. Our first big trip was to Costa Rica. I immediately fell in love with all the point breaks. Tamarindo having the mother-load of them. Over the years I would travel to Costa Rica many times and watch the place explode with americans like Baja did, however, during the early 90s the place still had a lot of unexplored surf spots. Hooking up with a boat was mandatory and we did it to catch waves at Witches Rock and Allie's Point. The waves were 6 to 8 feet of pure right point break satisfaction. The water was warm, clear, and spectacular.   

We had rented a four wheel drive truck that broke down twice while we traveled up and down Highway 1. Finally we had to trade it in which took a day for someone to drive the new one to Jaco from San Jose. That truck broke down too while crossing a creek near Mal Pais. It was a nightmare, especially when the rental place tried to charge us for the exchange in Jaco and a dent that happened when someone threw an orange out of a bus window and hit us while we were driving. Make sure you have good insurance when you rent vehicles in foreign countries FYI. 

Jaco Beach

Surfing Costa Rica started my love affair with Central America and I began trying to teach myself Spanish. Later I even took classes at college. Unfortunately I never got the hang of it beyond simple shopping or ordering food at a restaurant. I wanted to have a conversations with the locals but I kept sounding like a goof, so I'd just smile and nod "no problem" like the locals do no matter what the situation. 

"Why are you charging us for the truck exchange?"

"No problem."

"And why are we being charged $200 because someone threw the orange out of a passing bus and hit us."

"No problem." as they point at the place for you to sign so your credit card can be billed. 

"Can you explain why there was no spare tire in the truck?"

"No problem." said with a big smile but no other words.

"Why?"

"No problem."

How can anyone not love the problem free life of Central America? 

                                       

                                                     I could talk Spanish with these locals

During these years at Hot Wax Mark was doing all the paper and office managerial work while I'd rearrange the floor, clean shelves, listen to employee complaints, and handle the returns. In many ways Mark and I were a good team, but slowly Mark had a way of reminding me that he was the Boss Man, so, my time spent at the shop dwindled except when I was needed as stated above. Mostly I focused on being a Domestic Engineer around the house. 

I decided when Shaun was five that I'd homeschool him. I hadn't been very successful with my own schooling and my Mom thought I was going to hinder my children if I tried to teach them at home. I took that as a challenge. I skipped Kindergarden and went straight for First Grade. That way, if I didn't do things right I could repeat. However, Shaun past the first three years of school with excellent success. Then for Fourth Grade we put him in the school at the Presbyterian church we attended and I started on Sarah. She had already learned to read and write so the rest was easy. I schooled her for the First Grade through the Third Grade also, then she too, went to the school at the church. Both of them entered the Forth Grade a year younger then the rest of the kids. Skipping Kindergarden worked out well I thought. 

The Boy Scout and the Princess 

Homeschooling allowed us and the kids to be flexible so they could go places with us like California and the Surf Expos. At this point Mark and I were taking our time in Orlando. We'd leisurely drive down and spend two or thee nights in hotels. We'd even take in an amusement park every now and then. I had grown up going to Disney Land in Anaheim so by this time I was tired of Disney World and enjoyed Universal Studios much more...still do!

  

Both Shaun and Sarah were a regular sight at the Surf Expos in Orlando. It was interesting the first time I introduced them to Robert August. He started talking about all the pot I smoked back in high School.

"Oh, now there's a good story to tell them." I told Robert.

He laughed, "No, really kids, your mom was nuts." He said. Then he told me about his shop on Main St. that burnt down.

"You know Tam, the Duke Kahanamoku Invitational invite you framed for me was lost in the fire." Robert said sadly.

"Wow. That thing was so pretty" I replied a little upset myself. In 1978 I was babysitting Robert's young son Sam and we ended up looking through some of Robert's old Endless Summer stuff. I came across this velvet red card with expensive rice paper being held inside of it with gold and red shinny twine. The rice paper had gold writing on it inviting Robert August to the first Duke K Inv. held in 1965. At the time I found the red invitation I was working at a picture framing place and I took it to work and framed it for Robert's birthday. It was hanging in the Main St., Huntington Beach shop when the whole block burnt to the ground.   

The house at Pirate's Cove, Wilmington

We moved that year to our third home in Wilmington. My domestication led me to pull out the sewing machine and make all the window treatments. When the kids were young I sewed some of their their clothes, but now that the surf shop had kids clothes there was no need to make them any more so I tried harder things. I had always sewed my boardbags since no one else made them small and wide enough for a kneeboard. 

This year was the first time I was a Maid Of Honor, (the second time was for my daughter). The bride was a friend from church and later an employee. Her mother had been married to a guy who had two other wives in other states. I was dumbfounded at the idea that it really happens outside of Oprah. 

I was a Maid Of Honor. Sarah was the Flower Girl

For Christmas that year Mark and I went on our first cruse to the Bahamas. I had a good time but would never truly come to love cruses. Even though they say, "all inclusive so don't bring cash." they lie. I enjoyed all the food and stuff but the other things I really wanted to do, like skeet and off ship tours, were so expensive. It's true, no cash needed...the expenses show up on the credit card. Mark and I had a good time on the cruse and would go on a few during our marriage, but my heart and soul was in the surf trips. 

The year ended on a good note.