Besides being nearly 7 feet tall and weighing 110 pounds, I've had two cameo appearances in television commercials (partially and fully clothed) which should help you pick me out of a crowd. Remember the shot on the beach of the shirtless guy doing left, then right handed curls with matching 50 lb. dumbbells? That was me. The other commercial shows the guy with a mustache (fake) delivering coffee and doughnuts on the beach while a healthy lass coos "he's cool!" That was also me, fully clothed. Meeting me can be something else. I recall Bill, myself and a third person having a conversation last year when Bill offered "Do you know Ray Farnum?" "(enthusiastically) No I don't but I've heard of him." "Well, (gesturing toward me) this is Ray." "oh. I see. So Bill, where were we?" Just look for the Zonker Harris tan and the air of excitement and you've found the kayaklng equivalent of watching both the Republican and Democratic convention infomercials on videotape on the same night. Frankly, when my hair was longer I was frequently mistaken for Fabio (without the lisp). When it comes to wheels, Large Pickup has almost as many bumper stickers as the Millennium Falconmobile but mine are a bit more boring in content.

Where did the nick name Dumpmeister come from? Well, several possible sources. I spent 20 years working for a defense contractor and spent a fair portion of that time sitting down. It might also have been the ease with which I initially mastered the 180 degree Eskimo roll. I really can't remember precisely.

The more people who know you kayak, the more places you will be spotted kayaking simultaneously. If you have been kayaking for a while, most of the following conversation with a non-kayaking acquaintance will be familiar to you: "Yeah, like, I saw you kayaking yesterday off of Newport." "Is that right? What time of day?" "Oh, about 11:00 AM." "That was me." An hour later, with a kayaklng acquaintance: "Yeah, like, I saw you kayaking yesterday off of Point Judith." "Is that right? What time of day?" "Oh, about 11:00 AM." "What kind of boat?" "Looked like a yellow sit-on-top." "Choke. Gag. Retch. I don't think so."

People occasionally ask me "How do you become a kayak suffer." Well, the answer varies depending upon the audience but I generally suggest starting by not naming your boat as I did in the past with sea kayak WOOOSH. A surf boat does not respond well to any name, much less one like "Poopsie". Leave that phase of your life behind you. Next, learn to twirl your paddle in the air both left and right handed. Wear your helmet during these practice sessions! This is a cool beach move. Learn to pick up your feathered paddle with your toes (real surfers don't wear bootie shoe things). This has practical use since once your boat is on your shoulder you can potentially strain your back reaching for the paddle. If you can increase your repertoire of tricks to critical mass, you may never have to leave the beach and, instead, meet babes who immediately see through the charade but who, nevertheless, appreciate an original effort. If you should actually be placed in a position where you have to get your boat wet, poor vision is a great asset. If you could clearly see the conditions you are committing yourself to, you wouldn't. To become a good kayak surfer just watch how the good surfers do things. Intently watch them and visually dissect every move they do. It is surprising how few folks do this, especially given that it's all happening right in front of their eyes. Watch, dissect, try out and, finally, ask questions once you've tried hard. All the surfers I know are quite willing to share their knowledge.

I suppose this is a good opportunity to make a confession about Narragansett Town Beach. The surf at Narragansett is invariably Lousy. Miserable. Not surfable. The surf there is a "beach break", one in which the waves usually come straight in toward the shore instead of pealing off from one side to the other. We started going there originally because it was convenient for parking and beach access (it still is) and we knew there were often waves. However, in time one may discover the world of difference between waves and surfable waves. The Duke knew before our group did about the surf there when he said "If the surf is good at Narragansett, it's better somewhere else." True. However, it is a good place for out of staters to surf. A great spot. If, however, your goal down shifts from surfing to learning to manage your boat in challenging conditions or to saying hello to fellow boaters on Wednesday night then Narragansett is a good place to improve those boating skills.

So you might ask, if Narragansett is a poor spot to surf, where is "somewhere else"? Good try. If you are a fisherman do you tell everyone where your secret spot is? I don't. I hold this truth to be self evident: divulge the location of a good surfing spot and you will die a swift death at the hands of one of the local denizens of that spot. I wish to live long and prosper. Broadcasting the location of a good surf spot is a bad idea, even if you personally know Vinny Pazienza. For the record, they're all in California. Surfer magazine tells me so. As far as prosperity is concerned, "prosperous surfer" is yet another example of an oxymoron. To find the spots you have to invest your time, often during rainy and windy weather. Another thing: why is it that you don't often see the upper end surfers? It is because they typically go to different places than you do at odd times of day and in "poor" (read that as "good") weather conditions.

I view the transformation from a novice kayak suffer (a few steps above a novice kayaker) to a surfer as the following progression: suicidal, kayaker, kayak surfer, surfer. A suicidal has no roll, uses a nylon spray skirt instead of a quality neoprene skirt and wears no helmet. A kayaker uses leans and strokes, not a rudder, to redirect the boat, and the first response to a capsize is always a roll. A kayak surfer can roll under any conditions but usually doesn't have to and typically surfs diagonally toward shore. A surfer recognizes as many board surfers by sight as kayak surfers and can read both waves and lineups. A "surfer" may be tacitly, but almost never explicitly, accepted into the board surfers line up. "Kayak surfers" might get hurt by a loose surf board.

Surfing is, at some point, an often solitary pursuit. Once you quit your "gotta be there from 7 to 4" job to follow surf, it isn't easy to find another similar level boater with the same time flexibility and love for the chase. The surf doesn't arrive every Wednesday at 5:00 PM; sometimes it happens on Tuesday at 7:00 AM. Cellular phones are a solution to communication but not an available audience. "Don't boat alone" makes sense and will continue to make sense because a partner in another boat in the water is one more step towards safety, even if they're not in your immediate vicinity. For me, that particular safety net happens less than 20% of the time on a year round basis.

I've often thought about what I like about surfing; what is it that creates the addiction. I guess it is a number of things: The pure freedom with rules that are few and essential, kind of like the 10 Commandments, just fewer. I love the wild west atmosphere in which many contest for a wave but only one rides it. I love the fact that those who take the greatest risk often own the wave, and, both admiration and respect are earned, not allotted by quota. I love the winter surfing crowd because they're the pros. I even love the territorial board surfers because they're tough and mean and looking out for their (and my) neighborhood. Last, I love the point in a session where the stick you happen to surf with becomes a non-issue and we all hoot for each other after a steep take off or a good move. Surfing makes me feel more alive than anything else l do.

* Thanks to the Talking Heads and their album Stop Making Sense for most of that quote.