SHANE. “Your dad said you’d be here. What the fuck are you doing, Ripp?” I asked.

Ripp sat on the edge of the little merry-go-round and swung his feet like a child. Seeing him sit on the edge of the ride made him look like a giant, and the ride a toy. I looked around the park, and sat down beside him.

“Make her go, Dekk,” he smiled over his right shoulder.

“You alright?” I asked as I pressed my feet into the dirt below.

He looked over his shoulder again, “Yep. I’m good, bro.”

“Your pop said you used to come here when you were a kid,” I said as the ride gained a little speed.

“Yep, used to run up here before my bath, naked. I hated taking a bath. I thought it was wasted time. Never understood what sittin’ in the tub of water provided. They’d get me naked and walk out of the bathroom, and I’d put on my Chuck’s and run up here and play. This ride’s been here for twenty five years or better. Just thinkin’ I want it to be here for twenty five more,” he said.

“Well, maybe it will. So what’s going on?” I asked.

“Nothin’, just relaxin’,” he responded as the ride slowed down.

I pressed my feet into the dirt again and shifted my weight to the side, causing us to go the other direction.

When I was a child, I used to beg my grandfather to take me to the beach. My father never really wanted to spend time there, and all but refused to take me. When I visited my grandfather, on the other hand, it was a much different story. He enjoyed time at the beach and sometimes even volunteered to take me there.

Once, when I was probably around ten years old, we went to the beach with a small surfboard. He told me he was going to teach me to surf. On the trip to the beach, I was excited at the thought of him showing me how to surf. I expected him having spent his entire life in southern California would have made him an avid surfer, and he’d teach me the tricks of the trade. When we got to the beach, I learned the awful truth.

“How do you make it go,” I asked.

“You don’t. The waves do,” he told me.

“How do I hold it up?” I asked as I looked down at the wooden board.

“You don’t,” he responded, “the waves do.”

“What do I do?” I asked.

“You enjoy yourself. Become one with the sea,” he responded.

“Have you ever done it?” I asked.

“No son, I haven’t,” he smiled.

“How are you going to teach me?” I asked.

“I’m not, Shane. I can’t teach you to find peace, but I can point you in the right direction. I know it exists, and it exists right here,” he pointed out toward the breakers.

“There’s magic out there, son. Go find some.”

“But…” I began to hesitate, wondering just what to do.

“But nothing. Grab the board and do what they’re doing,” he said, pointing to all of the other surfers on the beach.

The people surfing on that particular day ranged in age from around six years old to about seventy. In watching them, it looked easy. I carried the board to the beach, looking over my shoulder at my grandfather as I walked closer to the water’s edge.

Each time I looked back, he waved. I carried the board to the water and waded out until I was in waist deep. As I climbed up onto the board, I began to feel free. Although I was laying down on my stomach and paddling out into the ocean, I felt as if nothing else mattered. Without indicating my lack of experience, I watched the boy beside me, and did what he did. I have no idea of the length of time it typically took someone to learn to surf, or how many tries it took most of the surfers to finally get up on a board, but I knew how many it took me.

One.

Shaky legged, I rode my first wave onto the beach and into my grandfather’s applause. Quickly, I returned to the water, and repeated the process. After an afternoon of surfing, I felt as if I had really accomplished something. The ocean provided me a form of confidence, relaxation and comfort. As my grandfather said, there’s magic out there.

And I had found it.

As I grew older, I found the same magic in riding a motorcycle. Something about being on the road with a motorcycle between my legs was refreshing. Confidence, relaxation, and comfort were commonly found with each small trip I took. After my first year of riding, it was difficult to get me into any form of a conventional vehicle. It really never rains in southern California, but when it did, I never stopped riding. To me, riding in the rain was as relaxing as a bath.

Both surfing and riding provided me a deep relaxation.

“What you thinkin’ about, Dekk?” Ripp speaking brought me out of the dream like state I was in.

“Nothing, just relaxing,” I responded.

Ripp flipped his legs from side-to-side and forced the merry-go-round into a spin. As we turned around in circles, I watched the park pass by with each rotation. I propped my feet on the edge of the metal disc and raised my hands in the air. As the ride spun in circles, I closed my eyes and once again found magic – from a child’s toy in the park.

As the ride spun in circles, I opened my eyes slightly and looked through the slits at the blurry trees and swing sets as they passed. For a moment, I became a child again. With my eyes still closed and my hands raised high in the air, I said all I could think to say.

“Faster….faster…”