May 30th, 2010 MEMORIAL DAY Weekend
The Surf Count of Waist High Or Better is 13 out of 15 weeks...

I want you all to do me a favor, and try to imagine this scenario I'm about to tell you. That is, if you don't mind. Seriously. Please try and put yourself into this scene. You can do it. It's easy. Just use your imagination, and the knowledge of what you know about our world today. Everyone ready? OK then, let's do this.

It's late at night. You are far from home, and you just so happen to be on your cellphone. You are texting family and friends, when one of your surf buddies from back home, sends you a text message and a couple of pics of what the surf was doing back in your hometown. The photos come through crystal clear, and you stare at the head high green barrels, spinning off some distant point or sandbar. There's a photo of all your buddies standing in front of the waves, throwing out the shaka's. Except for your buddy, who's flipping you the bird.

You smile at the image. And chuckle at your friend's message.

"Hey bud here's a few waves I caught for you this morning...wish you were here to surf them with us. Oh well, I guess that's more for me. We surfed for 5 hours with just three of us out. It was so good. We talked about you. The guys all say hello. I saw your mom the other day, she was in good spirits. I still keep an eye out for your little brother. He's too busy playing sports in school and chasing girls. But he did say he wanted to use your board. Is that cool? Let me know. I'd be happy to take him surfing on a small day. Stay safe man and I'll see you soon. P.S. we're heading up the coast tomorrow to chase the swell, it's gonna be sooooo good."

You stare at the photos and try and remember what that water feels like.

It's been months since you've even seen an ocean let alone felt one. The smell and sounds of the beach. The taste of the salt air. The sensation of paddling out with your friends and just having the time of your life. The smell of new wax on your board. The sound the water makes, as you dig deeper, and paddle harder. The deep duck dives, and how you used to open your eyes under water to watch the wave roll over you. The sun hitting your face as you strain to see out the back. The silver lip glistening off of each wave as it rises and moves towards you and your friends. Man, you miss it so much. The Surfing lifestyle.

You close your eyes, and try to envision it all. Dreaming of those perfect days.

Suddenly, a familiar sickening sound fills the night air. Whump. The dull sound of a mortar impacting near your hole jolts you upright, and then just as quickly, you instinctively dive for cover. The rounds land closer. Whump. whump. Almost as if they were walking up like giant, demonic footsteps, getting closer and closer to where you are lying. You are breathing in the dirt and dust, as you press your face closer to the earth. The ground shakes with each deafening explosion. You feel completely helpless now and you're filled with a paralyzing fear.

Then you hear one of your guys scream out.

Shrapnel from one of the mortar rounds went tearing through his flesh and bones. At first you didn't recognize his voice. It sounded like an animal. But you hear it now and know it's one of your friends. Mikey. It is dark and flares are going up into the blackness of the sky. You lift your head and strain to see and hear. Your friend's voice sounds muffled and distorted as the rounds continue to rain down on your position. The knot in your stomach tightens, and you are having a hard time breathing. Then another whooshing sound goes directly over your head. The round impacts behind you. The smell of cordite is everywhere.

There are other voices. Some calling out names. You hear your name. But you can't answer because you have too much dust and dirt in your mouth.

But you can still hear the feint voice of your buddy. The last thing on your mind now is surfing. You know that a ground attack is forthcoming. Your heart is beating louder. You hear the sounds of small arms fire. Pop. Pop. You flip over on your back and stare up into the black night. You are the closest person to your buddy. You make a feeble attempt to call out to him. Your own voice is unrecognizable. "Hang on Mikey! Hold on brother! I'm coming!" It's now or never.

You take a deep breath, and leap to your feet.

Your knees are weak and you slip and slide trying to get up and out of your hole. A flare goes up and you see him. He is twisted and turned in a strange and odd position. You run to him. Your heart is pounding. Your eyes are bugging out of your head. The noise is still thunderous. 5 meters from your friend, he reaches out to you. You are almost there. You both manage a strained weak smile. Your fingers touch.

The whooshing sound is barely audible in your head, as it comes hurtling out of the darkness at an incredible speed, directly at you. WHUMP!

Then there is a dull, droning numbness.

You find yourself staring into the black night. You are on your back. There is something wet under you. The only sound you hear, is the sound of air leaking out of your head. You blink your eyes. The wetness is getting bigger. Then you mouth the words you have called out since you were a child. The word embedded in all of us. "Mom...Mother..." Darkness overcomes you. One last blink, and your eyes stare off blankly into the night. And then...you are gone from this earth. Forever.

You guys still with me?

You don't think that scenario has happened and is happening somewhere in this world? Surfer/Warriors who are serving our country. Trust me, they are out there. They have been since WWII. It's true. Surfers have served our country since WWII. Lord knows there were literally thousands of Surfers who served in Vietnam. My guess is ten's of thousands. With hundreds dying. Same with today. You know there are men and women who serve our country today, who are passionate about Surfing. You do know this right? And they are in harms way. And some have been killed in action. This scenario I created has happened, and will happen again.

So what's my point? It's Memorial day weekend .

Once a year, we are supposed to stop to reflect and remember those who have died for our country. I figured if I created a scenario that had a surfer in it, then you could relate better to it. I know it's hard for those of you who have never served, to get the true meaning of this day. It would be for me too, had I not served. I get the point, that you more than likely never knew anyone who died in any war. But I bet more than 90% of you knew, or know someone who served in the Military. A relative or friend. And there's a good chance that they knew someone who died.

But to better illustrate my point. Imagine what your life would be like, if the person you knew who served in the Military, had been killed. What would your life be like today? Maybe it's a brother or cousin. Or husband or wife. Maybe it's a parent. My point is simple. Your life would be completely different today, had your loved one been killed in combat.

Memorial Day would have a deeper meaning to you and your family.

It would certainly mean more to you, than that guy on local cable TV here in New Hampshire, who jams his fat pudgy body into a woman's bikini and then prances around screeching about his furniture sale. He does all of this with the most disturbing and annoying voice on the planet. You local guys know who I'm talking about. This guy is disturbing on so many levels. But for him to do his "fantasy bit" on Memorial Day, I find it completely inappropriate and disgusting. This guy needs help.

Someone please tell me what a middle aged man in a woman's bikini has to do with selling Furniture? Do you really want to buy something from this clown? Do you trust him because he's in a woman's bikini? Or is it something else? When he says at the end of each spot "Don't Miss It!" I get a migraine. I want to miss it. I want to change the channel. If people are truly buying his furniture because he's in a bikini, then I am sadly mistaken. I'll admit I was wrong.

Just like The latest Surfers Journal. The story on Peter Drouyn's sex change is as wacky a story as I have ever read. I guess, I just don't get it. I can't understand how either one of these cases, has any redeeming values in our society. Sorry. But that's my opinion. I don't think God mistakenly made Peter a man, when he should of been a woman. I think some of Peter's wires got crossed. In other words, he's damaged goods. God did not do this. Peter did it. Or something else. Drugs? Alcohol? Look I'm not talking Gay and Lesbian issues here. I'm talking about making cats out of dogs and men into women. You want to be Gay. Be gay. I have gay friends. But to blame God for being born a man? I'm sorry...that's absurd.

Face it Peter, you're just plain insane.

So...I will toast my fallen brothers this Memorial Day, and all the others who have died fighting for our very Freedoms, and I will shut off my TV, or change the channel, when the fat guy goes prancing by in his wife's Bikini. ..."DON'T MISS IT!"

Now for some of my weekly Global observances:
Is the BP oil spill Obama's Katrina? That's what some are saying. OB himself has been back pedaling and putting all kinds of political spins on this disaster. "How you like me now? " should be playing in the background of all his press conferences these days.

Oh no, say it ain't so...Gary Coleman is really gone? Child actor from Different Strokes who uttered the famous line of..."What choo talking bout Willis?" Is gone? Rest In Peace Little Man.

Rest in Peace Hollywood ICON Dennis Hopper. I have to admit, I loved this guy. I mean he was just so quirky and off the wall in all of his characters he played. From EASY RIDER to his last CRASH series. Dennis Hopper was a Rebel. Rest in Peace Dennis and try not to cause any trouble in the after world.

So did North Korea sink that South Korean Naval Ship or not? Does it make a difference to you and I? No...but it sure does to South Korea. Our world is so not safe.

The Celtics beat the Magic Friday night and are heading to the FINALS. Come on people we are close to another Championship in New England. This has got to be making you all feel better. Even you miserable SOB's must be smiling...a little.

CHECK OUT THE NEW/Old YESTERDAY PAGE! ALL OLD New England and beyond Surf Pics!*NEW PICS added each week!

Here's JAMIE WADE's pics of the MOLLY Hockey Game for you to check out: http://jamiewade.zenfolio.com/

Please give to the RED CROSS or some other trusted organization to help the people in Haiti and Chile. Like the RED CROSS. www.redcross.org Help these people. Please.

The Children of Nicaragua via Brian Nevin's recent work. lovelightandmelody.org This organization deals directly with the plight of the children of La Chureca.
Please help.

*Check out the NEW updated DROPPING IN ON RALPH blog Section.
ALL Of May is up. *This is the blog section of this website where you can write in and comment. The only downside of this blog is, you actually have to use your REAL Name. No hiding behind some fake handle and name. If you want to comment, you have to man up, and be yourself. I will post all comments, both good and bad.
You just have to be yourself.

*Molly Paddle Video by Joe Carter has been moved to the Community Page.

Please Support ALL The photographers who contribute to Ralph's Pic Of The Week
every week for the last 7 years. **Think about BUYING a Photo from any of the weeks on RPOTW as a GREAT Gift Idea. A nice framed photo of your favorite Surfer!

Remember my friends...Surfing Heals All Wounds....
Pray for Surf. Pray for Peace. Surf For Fun.

Ralph