Culture

I Googled Gidget and Windansea

Are You There God? It’s Me, Gidget.

“Nobody knows I’m a real person — they think “Gidget” is Sandra Dee or Sally Field.”—Kathy Kohner Zuckerman

@Ori would remember the night I walked and told him of all the creepy sites on those dark streets which weave the beach along Windansea into Draper Villas…

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firefly flying quietly why she cries, no one notices me...

Authentic Non-Fiction Life

[Richard] Powers is especially effective at illustrating the way the story of the girl with “the happiness gene” spreads across the Internet and, only slightly less rapidly, the traditional media. Thassa’s mailbox starts filling up: “Strange people with Hotmail accounts want me to make them happy. One woman wants to hire me as her personal trainer. She thinks her soul needs a professional workout.”

… This review was written by Jay McInerney (“How It Ended: New and Collected Stories”) and published in The New York Times Sunday Book Review, October 1, 2009. … when I first stumbled into this story the other day, I did a double take… it read like my life…

“Meanwhile, Kurton’s research team is on the verge of publishing a study that correlates specific genetic codes with emotional well-being. But despite the large sample on which the study is based, Kurton is holding back on publication, looking for some missing datum to confirm his findings. When Thassa’s story comes to his attention he thinks he may have found it. …”

I remember listening to a Nobel Prize contending researcher detail his observations of my hyperthymic temperament…

“Kurton persuades Thassa to undergo a series of tests, and when the results are finally published — the ebullient Thassa’s genetic material having confirmed the initial findings — media interest in the Happy Gene Girl goes manic, culminating with an appearance on a Chicago talk show whose host, known to all simply as Oona, “is, by any measure, the most influential woman in the world.” In a canny elision, Powers gives us only hints of Thassa’s triumphant performance, by way of its echoes on the Internet. … “

My effervescent happiness, despite the most contrary of circumstances, led me to be taken and tested, poked and prodded, and accused many more times of being “on something”. Continue reading

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Peeping Tom of Windansea
Are You There God? It's Me, Gidget, Culture, Documentation, Ethics

Peeping Tom

for summer twist and friends

The other morning I woke up and felt for once like myself… softest sheets on my bed, nuzzled up warm, safe, and alone in my home. The waves a deep roar as they crash ashore fifty or so yards beyond my bedroom window. I rolled over and lingered a little longer, those being my last days in the only home I’ve ever really known as my own.

I got up decided as it was gray and dreary that I’d make my own coffee, the Bird Rock Backtalker’s blend, a special blend made by the bright and brilliant Jocelyn. It’s then I check my voicemail and listen to the worst of the worst from Uncle Tom. Here’s that one, and a whole selection of other priceless Uncle Tom voicemail gems…

 

“Cry and whine how thirsty they are…”

Gidget, the Chism Bag

Listen to Voicemail September 14, 2011. 7:44am:

“I know you thought I was looking at your body, wishing I could lick it and juice on it and everything like that, but no I was actually looking at how thin you were. Try to eat something today, try to eat more—forget the beach niggers, forget about being sociable and feed yourself today, you know? And, uh, heck no man, I couldn’t get rid of you if I made love to you. It’d be a bummer for ya, you’d be bummed. All these guys using you as a chism bag and here’s the old Uncle Tom loving you and having respect for you and giving you multiple orgasms, shit, I’d never get rid of you… so see, it all works out for reasons. I know you were wondering all of that, Uncle Tom wants my hot little body but no I was really looking at you, try to feed yourself a little better today. I’ll check ya.”

Gidget and the Hillbilly Monster

 

Listen to Voicemail August 16, 2011. 9:06am:

“There are many things you can Google. One of the places that stands out the most in the memories of where you’re at is a thing or a program called Hee-Haw. Hee-Haw was originated in, I think, the 60’s or the early 70’s. It was a stereotypical program of the Bible Belt and the midwest, or the mideast or somewhere back there—nonetheless, it’s wow. I hope California hasn’t affected you enough that the, the, the, hillbilly monster’s get ya. Oh well, check ya.”

Uncle Tom Helps Poor Young Women Who Need a Second Chance

 

Listen to Voicemail July 31, 2011, 5:23pm:

“Boy did I get hurt last night, did I get hurt last night. All I’m trying to do is trying to help poor young girls, poor young women who need a second chance that have been caught up into the system. All I try to do is help them. And these, these, these, these bad men try to put me down, and these poor young girls don’t know what to do, what to think. And, they tell me this and I get so hurt. And you know, there’s a new phrase in town, it’s a phrase that’s been around a long time, but you’re in town and it’s new, and whoever these people who’ve talked about me, that’ve tried to stop me from helping poor innocent young girls, poor innocent young women maybe, who knows. But, you can just call them a bitch fag. Down right hard bitch fag. That’s the new phrase, first you had beach nigger, and now you have bitch fag. And they’re a bitch fag, trying to stop a simple man trying to help young women. What’s this world coming to?!”

 

I’d call the police, but they made me promise not to call 911 again. I refused to promise, but since the last time I called I needed help with an emergency and they could care less and instead threatened to take me away to County Mental Health, again.

They then left, I guess they were corrected by whoever they called up.

So yeah, I am left to deal with life without the civil protection afforded to normal citizens of San Diego County.

Funny thing is, I met the Chief of Police, William Lansdowne at Harry’s a few weeks ago. I know when I get around to asking to speak to him that he’ll remember—I’ve been told that no one forget’s meeting Gidget.

Too bad I don’t live closer to my Uncle’s police force in Fort Wayne. I bet he would handle a few things around here that seem to be a little broken.

More voicemails stacked below…

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Are You There God? It's Me, Gidget

my creatives’ center

Every time I want to leave, there they are pulling me on my sleeve.

Posted by creatives’ center on Saturday, June 22, 2013

 

see Tales from the Lunatic Decade, Johnny Stephen Fernlund.

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The WindanSea Surf Club Story

This article was originally written for the WSC Menehune contest program, October, 2005

It has always been about the place. Without the fortuitous geological formation of an underwater reef during past eons, just offshore from a steep, sandy, south-facing beach on the bulbous spit of land called La Jolla, none of this would have happened. But it did. The earth cooled, the reef formed, the ocean levels rose and settled with the ages, the summer south swells came, and the first intrepid wave riders who took the time to look noticed how perfectly the waves broke there, peeling left and right from a peak, with deep water channels surrounding it, and a thick kelp bed growing offshore to smooth the surface of the waves. It’s a glorious and beautiful place, this beach we call WindanSea. Continue reading

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