Latest Update: September 8, 2001

Caught Inside

Not By Chris Mauro

I was sitting on the beach recently, thinking about myself. "Shit dude," I told myself, "your life sucks. You have to travel on advertiser sponsored junkets with a bunch of spoiled pros and ponder how to make a journey that most surfers would give their left nut for seem interesting and revolve completely around you and your experiences at the same time."

Sometimes I worry I'm dumb, but then I quote myself: "no, I'm not dumb, I'm smart, and people think I'm smart too." Otherwise why would my words appear on so many lines in my magazine? It's amazing to think that I own a magazine. But I guess I do, otherwise, how could I convince myself to allow myself to go on a trip called Chris Cross America, and bamboozle the other dudes I work with into thinking that I was going to discover a universal truth about surfing. In fact, I only really rediscovered how much I really like me and how much less interesting than me the people I met were.

I was sitting with Bruce and Andy Irons one day on a nice beach in Tahiti, where there were some dark skinned people who lived there. I don't think they were oriental, but they didn't seem black either. Oh wait, back to me. So I said, "guys, enough from me about me, let's talk about what you think about me."

Bruce summed it all up when he said, "dude, when I think of how important, like you and my cousin Ricky are, I'm like, dude."

Andy said, "Well dude, as long as you keep getting my pictures published in the magazine and keep making me and my brother not seem like the dicks we are, then I'll definitely not tell you what I really think about you."

I said to myself, "hmm, they must really like me."

I go here, and I go there. I get to write stuff that's cool. "Hmmm," I ask myself, "What would I be doing if I hadn't jumped ship from Surfer to jump ship to Swell to jump ship to Surfer?" I guess if I wasn't repping for Billabong, I'd just have my dad buy me a different surf magazine.

Sometimes, my inner voice, which I call the Anti-Chris asks things like this: wait, do surfers want to read more about surfing from a variety of voices and and opinions that shape our sport? Do they want to have their minds opened to something besides the pros who all happen to be my bros and that I would never speak bad about? Do they want to read something about the people, culture and history of the rad places where I take myself to? Where does a massage parlor fit into all this? Why doesn't anybody edit my articles? Oh yeah, 'cause I'm the self-appointed king and future editor. Was the ...lost ad in the last Surfer trying to tell me something while also trying sell me something? Does it mean something that one of the most honest articles in my magazine was the ...lost ad? Do "you people" (as like to call you readers) give a damn about more than just me and my narrow take on the neato stuff I make happen to me as the reigning king of Surfer magazine.

Then I tell myself. "Nah, I'm way more interesting than those dumb things."

I'm glad you think so too.