A Labor of Love

A Labor of Love

As I was driving to Scripps Pier early this morning to play/train in the righteous south swell that is upon us here in So Cal, I realized Labor Day Weekend was back.  As a kid, Labor day was a bitter pill to swallow,  it meant leaving my beloved shores of Salisbury Beach and all the the things that I loved about summer, hot sand, cool surf, warm nights, great friends and pretty girls.

One reason I moved to San Diego 21 years ago was to avoid having to confront the heavy hand of Labor Day. That nonnegotiable touch stone, etched in the calender, that said cool nights are coming, seasons are changing and there is a new sheriff stirring, Oldman Winter.

Although my life is far more complicated than it was in the fall of 1990 when I arrived in SD and the endless summer isn’t quite what it once was (nor should it be), I now welcome Labor Day weekend and the days beyond as it means a long indian summer, some luscious Santa Anna winds and most importantly a continuation of a life, a career and existence that is meaningful and satisfying.  I credit a lot of my satisfaction to the fact thaty my job is also my hobby and intimately interwoven with some of my personal passions.

I want to publicly thank my teachers, my teacher’s teachers, my teammates, my competitors, my role models and my many friends and family members who have supported, challenged and encouraged me on the winding road that has lead me to Monumental Results.

My wish for each of you who read this, is that you have Da Best weekend of your life, hopefully surrounded by people you love. I hope your transition to fall, whatever that is for you,  leaves you with a robust  sense of optomism about the days ahead.

 

Friendship, Strength and Honor

Peter, Cris, Spike, Mr D, Coach Dobro

 

 

 

 

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