Capitola, California

Vignette Graduated Tobacco filter (landscape).

Date Night

"I need to drop off a few wetsuits at O'Neill's for repairs, so let's just go see a movie in Santa Cruz," I say.

"No, I don't really want to, it's too far," says Hubby.

"Uh, you just went too Germany, but the movie theater in Santa Cruz, where we're already going to be, is too far?" is all I could think.

But all I said was, "Just drive to Santa Cruz, okay?"

"Alright, " says Hubby.

We dropped off the wetsuits.

"Wait, where are you going?" asks Hubby as I head to the back of the surf shop.

"I'm going to look at surfboards," I say.

Duh. It's sacrilegious to enter a surf shop without paying homage to the surfboards. It's the equivalent of going to church without praying.

I slowly felt up a few curvy outlines of several Channel Islands Surfboards, while Hubby held them side by side for me. They even had one Fred Rubble model, a newly designed board, which has me all hot and bothered.

"Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhh, I like it," I say.

But Fred was not the right size for me, and we got out of there with Hubby's wallet in tact.

"Phew," we both thought.

"What do you want to do now?" I ask.

"Well, I'm not hungry at all," says Hubby.

"I'm starving, let's go eat!" I say.

"Alright," says Hubby, knowing all my questions, tonight, are rhetorical.

After dinner I say, "should we go to the beach or Trader Joes?" I say.

(This was actually a test, which he failed, because he instantly began driving to Trader Joes.)

"So, you'd rather go to the grocery store than the beach?" I ask. "Don't you, at least, have to think about it?"

"I'd rather just go home," says Hubby patiently.

Seriously, this man has extra patience genes. Either that, or I suspect he's been stealing some of mine.....

"Let's turn around and go to the beach," I say.

Hubby flips a You-Ee.

"No, let's go to Trader Joes, we really need butter," I say, in full scatter brain mode.

This argument is typical of the neurotic "flee from responsibility, be responsible" battle that rages through my brain incessantly. Fortunately, the beach won tonight, because Hubby wouldn't turn around, again. Thank Goddess.

Look Internet, I'm not trying to drive him crazy. I come by this talent naturally. I barely even try.

We walked down the new staircase at The Hook, at the end of 41st Avenue in Capitola.

"Wow, they finally finished the staircase!" I say. "These are some fancy stairs,"

"I wonder how long they'll last?" ponders Hubby.

Then we walked all the way up to Sewer Peak just past Pleasure Point. The Point had the best waves. Though the tide was too high, it didn't stop us from mind-surfing a few fun ones.

There were a wide array of creatures on the coastal trail on East Cliff Drive.

"Is that a dog?!" asks Hubby. "It looks like a horse."

"I think it's a really tall person walking on all fours," I say.

"Oh my gosh, there's a rabbit!" says Hubby.

"Yeah, I think he's at that house party," I say. "They were talking about him behind his back."

We also saw pedestrians, bicyclists and runners. Whether cloaked in fur or clothes everyone, was, in their own way, enjoying the divinity of nature, and of course, sporting their bright yellow auras.

"That was really fun, thanks!" I say to Hubby.

Hubby is the perfect date, even if sometimes, I have to drag him along.