Twas the day before Christmas
And all along the coast
The waves, they were flat
The surf, it was toast
The wetsuits were hung on the railings with care
In hope that a swell would soon appear
And I in my beanie, and the wife in her uggs
Cradled our lattes all warm and snug
When down from the beach there arose such a shout
That we rushed to the blufftop to go check it out
When from down to the south, down towards Cardiff Reef,
Something was happening that brought disbelief
Twas a sight that held my weary eyes in thrall
Why, the Cardiff Kook had come to life!
Weird hands and all!!
And then like magic from the ocean there came
Beautiful sets of perfect hollow A-Frames
And as he darted about on his board made of bronze
He was leading a pack of gnarly young groms
To his posse he called, as he led them along,
“On Ryan, on Travis, on Evan and Drew,
On Josh, on Jared, on Mallory, too:
Over the miracle waves, the groms, how they flew!
Carving and hiding in chambers of blue
Surpassing their mentor, oh how they did rip
Boosting themselves high over the lip.
I looked at my wife and said,” Times a wastin’”
And into our rubber suits we did hasten
It was a Christmas gift to feed our souls
With a tug and a zip, we were ready to roll.
When the Kook looked around and saw all the fun
He smiled a big kook smile and said,
“My work here is done”
Then the Kook returned to his perch highwayside
Where he in eternal Kookness abides
Where he grins at the world for no apparent reason
While dressed in the clothes of each passing season
Yet he taught us a lesson for which there is no doubt:
When Christmas comes to the beach
Even kooks paddle out.
by Bruce Stephens
(with apologies to Clement Clark Moore)