Here comes the ocean … And the waves

While Che Underground regulars might think of sooty basements, Beatle boots and bottomless cups of coffee as pillars of San Diego history, most of the world makes simpler associations: There’s the zoo; Tijuana; and above all, the beach.

Time to draw the most glaring fact of San Diego geography into our memory exercise. Living in Encinitas, the Pacific Ocean to me was the definitive point of reference when plotting my movements (an absolute I miss in twisty Essex County, New Jersey). It was also the site of some memorable parties, and occasionally I even made it into the water! But it also scared me a little, and I never felt like I understood it the way a lot of other kids did.

The blue-green complexions and decidedly landlocked wardrobes of many of our colleagues make me think that even the California natives among them caught precious few rays at the beach. Others grew up surfing, but I can’t remember how much they segregated that part of their lives from the black-leather culture of punk. (All these categories seemed so much more rigid back in the day, and engineer boots don’t float.)

So let’s wax oceanographic: What did that big body of water due west represent to you? Was it a childhood friend? A painful reminder that you weren’t living in New York or London? Did it inform your aesthetic, your leisure and your social mores, either as a call to action or a source of reaction?

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