Epic flatness

There hasn't been a flat spell like this one in the three years that I've been surfing. Flat as a pancake. Flat as a Chinese gymnast's chest. Flat as my attempts at humor tend to fall when I'm hanging out with 20-year-old boys.

I don't use the word flat easily. My motto is "there's always something". Remember, I surf six-inch wavelets.

But it's flatter than that, and it has been since the last time I was out. That's two weeks.

There's nothing to surf and no surf on the horizon, so I'm heading for the hills. I'm taking my lovable Alzheimer's-afflicted pooch and going skiing in Colorado. Barring a miraculous change in surf in the next week, you will hear from me after the 20th.