AFTER a great afternoon floating just beyond the break, and a beautiful sunset surf session at Cox Bay, the three of us, (Big Dirty, KDunc and myself) got out of our cold, salty wetsuits and went on the hunt for the rest of our crew (Gastis and Ollie). When we got to the parking-lot at Wikininish it was pitch black except for three bright headlights glowing in the distance (Ollie had strapped his board to a dirt-bike for his trek to the coast) as we pulled up closer a wild yet strangely familiar image came into focus: the silhouettes of two crazy individuals running around in their underwear trying to find clothes before the approaching car got too close... this- funny enough, is not an abnormal thing for west coast parking lots. As Ollie put on his pants and Gastis put on a man sized fuzzy fleece onesie our evening plans started coming together- FIND SHELTER.

The plan was to sleep at "Sky Couch", this haggard platform that overlooks the Ukee coastline. On arrival, Ollie ditched his bike in the woods and rest of us started unloading and stashing our boards when Kdunc (aka K-donkadonk) had the brilliant idea to make what we now affectionately call DITCH NOODLES. What are ditch noodles? Well- Simply put, Spaghettini and pasta sauce. What makes ditch noodles so special is how they are eaten... picture it; 5 grown men huddled in a ditch on their hands and knees eating, communally, like a pack of wild dogs from one pot, using whatever utensils available- I'm pretty sure someone used a butterknife. The mess was real- noodle shrapnel EVERYWHERE, and as we devoured our prey Ollie chimed in saying"

"How funny would it be if an RCMP officer on patrol pulled up to this ridiculous scene? I'd probably just offer him a spoon!"

Well wouldn't you know it- 2 Minutes later a very friendly RCMP officer on patrol pulled up to that ridiculous scene- no spoons were offered, no noodles where shared but we WERE invited to move on from that ditch and camp in an actual campsite. Fair enough- so after we polished off the DitchNoodles (patent pending) we found refuge at Wya Point Campground- quite likely the craziest campground ever... no curfews no rules and no night-time staff- loud doesn't quite account for it... but cheap and available does! Win. In the pitch black of night we nuzzled in to the corner of what I think was an occupied campsite and from hammocks to forest floors we found rest for our weary heads... all of us excpt for Gastis, see Gastis spent the wee hours of that night driving the Ukee strip- note to self: don't leave your brand new $400 wetsuit on the roof of your car while driving.

This trip was so fun, full of crazy hi-jinx and wild tomfoolery- we laughed, we bonded, we surfed and we skated (Acid dropping off of Lovekin Rock into the waves), we ate good food and had great conversations. There was even a moment when I accidentally, full-on surfed a wave standing on top of a strangers back... YES, it was as awesome as it sounds- maybe even BETTER, I fully recommend it.

What does this have to do with TV or that Netaflixia thing? Well, as I mentioned in my last post, almost every night for the last 5 years I fell asleep to the sounds and scenes of TV streaming whatever nonsense I hadn't yet watched. But not that night- that night I fell asleep to the scenes in my mind, playing back the days' events. I fell asleep to the pictures in my imagination of what tomorrow would hold and to the sounds of friends laughing, sharing stories and saying prayers for Gastis that his wetsuit would be found (Which- drumroll... It WAS, thank you God).
That night, I fell asleep to the faint taste of DitchNoodles© on my tongue and the hope of good times to come.

It seems silly to mortgage moment like those for nights spent watching other people live.

Day 1 down- 39 to go.

Cheers,
Johnny

IT was a beautiful fall evening, the sun was setting over the forested pond at surf junction campground and there I was- alone with the soothing songs of crickets, the smell of neighbouring campfires and the rich taste of Tacofino fresh on my palette. PERFECTION!
These are the moments we CRAVE, our souls need them- it's like the reset on your car's odometer, these moments ground us - or for you hippy-standup-paddleboard-yoga people, they help us find our centre.
This is the moment I discovered that I suffered from what the all-knowing Urban Dictionary calls NETAFLIXia :
"A medical condition where the patient physically cannot take his or her self away from netflix streaming. the patient will often go home very early and end social interaction abrubtly to go and satisfy the urges that come from netaflixia"

In the face of all of the natural beauty around me, the edifying book I had brought with me, and the rare opportunity to disconnect and enjoy some peace and quiet- I felt like a piece of my soul was dying, like a void was growing in me and my anxiety level skyrocketed, what was missing? Nothing! And yet it was as though in the bottom right hand corner of my mind there was a 14 second countdown
to the next episode of whatever and with every passing second my need for action, drama and noise grew like a white girl's ego after every new Instagram follower.
​ CONFESSION TIME
There have been, at best, five nights in the last 5 years where I haven't fallen asleep to the familiar blue glow of a tablet streaming high def TV into my face. I have nearly exhausted every season of every series of every reasonable show on both CRAVE and NETFLIX (not Nashville or Pretty Little Liars though- a guy's gotta have some standards) and a few gooders from SHOMI- the result?

EXHAUSTION from late nights leading to less energy for work, family, and hobbies.
APATHY toward normal everyday life (the plot is often pretty flat).
SOCIAL ANXIETY from spending so much waking time alone, watching fake people living fake lives (where they often hurt each-other).
CONFUSION ABOUT IDENTITY AND PURPOSE because with every cop series I want to be a cop, with every boxing movie I want to become a fighter, and with every dinosaur movie... I want to be a cop or a fighter.
SOCIAL DISASSOCIATION because I know less about real life and the goings on of society than I do about MARVEL: AGENTS OF SHIELD.
​DECREASED QUALITY OF HEALTH because sitting down a lot makes you fat and sick and too lethargic to do jazzercise... I mean hit the gym which sucks cause I'm in the PRIME of my life.

SO what now? Well, in true iGoogle-Age fashion; every good Siri informed self diagnosis deserves a good ol' self imposed remedy.

For the next 40 days I am going cold turkey, I'm going to fight a MEAN case of "NETAFLIXia" with a massive dose of "Netarexia". No TV of any kind AT ALL.
For the next fourty days, I am going to blog about my journey out of the imaginary and back into a full force engagement with real life. Why? As I'm writing this my friend Kenton asked me what I hope to get out of this thing, and honestly, I don't know. I think I'lI only be able to answer that on the other side but in a word I guess I just want MORE.

ANYWAY; Read it or don't- who cares, but maybe consider joining me on this underwhelmingly epic quest to regain reality (no not reality TV)

DISCLAIMER:
*** you might be reading this and saying "Johnny- you're just replacing Netflix with blogging" and to that I say "Shut up."

See you tomorrow. I'M ON MY WAY BACK TO TOFINO- the land of good surf and bad internet connection.

Johnny

yes I'm making a PB Sammy in a car with a machete ... Maybe I shoulda stuck with Netflix