Fancy Boogie Board, Low Yield

Way back in the day, my cousins used to go on a yearly beach trip. They lived in New Jersey, and I lived in Massachusetts. Many of these trips happened before I started joining, and this was the year I was finally going. First, we’d drive the four hours from Massachusetts to Jersey. Then, we would head to Wildwood, Ocean City, or some other tacky place we had chosen.

It was fun, but there was one thing I didn't understand well.

A major focus for the children was the size of the waves. We were young, so this wasn’t surfing, but on this trip, I was introduced to boogie boarding. My cousins had packed their boogie boards, something I’d never encountered or heard of. I was 2-3 years younger than both my male cousins, Tammer and Sherief.

An aside: I remember this one trip felt like the height of luxury. I rode with their family in their minivan, while my parents drove their own cars.

The reason this trip felt extremely luxurious was that my cousins had just gotten a van equipped with a television. At the time, screens were not ubiquitous, and I’d never seen or heard of a vehicle with a TV. As if this wasn’t enough, there was a Nintendo 64 set up; we were playing Mario Tennis while my aunt gave us bagel halves she was spreading with cream cheese before passing them back to us—a bunch of spoiled kids playing Nintendo 64.

Epic Game

I remember at one point we had to take a ferry to where we were going. The cars were parked in a special section of the ship, and I remember distinctly standing on some sort of balcony above and looking at the car with my cousins. “Damn, I wish we could be playing Mario Tennis right now,” I mused. “We can’t, the battery would drain,” answered one of my cousins, having already thought it through. (A Mario Tennis side note, at the bottom of this article. )

Anyways, we arrived in Ocean City and I was boogie board-less. My cousins all had them, and the main focus for all the children was hitting huge waves. Much to my parents' horror, the adults we were with were focused on gorging themselves on all-you-can-eat crab, with one of them even causing a tantrum when they missed the cutoff for the unlimited crab buffet. This poor soul was limited to only 36 crabs, which he later got comped due to his tantrum. Anyways…

My cousins bragged about how big the waves were. My father, who might have felt some competitive vibes being a newcomer to this scene, went out to buy me a boogie board. He returned with what appeared to me to be the Rolls Royce of boogie boards. It had a sleek, waxed bottom and looked incredible. I remember him bringing it to me on the beach.

It was such a hit; I remember everyone sliding their hands down the slick waxed bottom. My cousin made some remark about how I didn’t deserve a board this nice because I didn’t even know what boogie boarding was. We ventured out into the ocean, and I followed the lead of my cousins in the quest to catch big waves. Then it happened—I saw them start to ride waves and imitated them. The only difference was that while they rode the waves out to the shore in a smooth and swift manner, I was only able to ride the waves about two feet. I couldn’t do it at all. I refused to let anyone use my board, which I struggled to use for absolutely anything.

I had the best tools but was the worst at it. I DEFINITELY did not deserve this fancy boogie board.

This premium boogie board next to this standard version. Wait until you see the back in the next photo.

Look at that slicked bottom!

I have been practicing yoga for about nine years now, with tremendous rigor. I have gotten quite proficient and am very impressed with my practice. I’ve put in a substantial amount of work, and wherever I practice, I’m assumed to be a teacher and praised for my practice. I have never owned a yoga mat that costs more than $10. I buy the cheapest, shoddiest mats ever. I use them over and over and wear them down. They have served me so well, and my commitment to the practice and my non-attachment to the result while focusing on the process and consistency made me a force to be reckoned with. My yoga practice has helped me so much in my life, and I never bought a fancy mat.

I’d like to compare this to two things I can think of. My brother, who showed great promise with drums, lost interest quickly. My parents had by then bought him a really nice drum set, which did not get played and was not used to fulfill the musical hopes and ambitions my parents had for my brother but rather sat collecting dust in the basement. I believe purchases like this are premature and can often do someone a disservice in terms of allocating investments properly to reflect talents and work. For instance, my brother should have been bought a simple drum pad until the need for leveling up became undeniable.

Think about people who play drums on paint buckets; they develop their talents using the bare necessities and end up sounding great.

Another example is the trend of Kenyan marathon runners who trained without shoes. This strengthened their feet and gave them a substantial advantage over those who trained using plush sneakers that didn’t help develop foot strength.

Sometimes resources are a hugely beneficial head start that enables, and sometimes they’re a crutch that minimizes resourcefulness and drive. This idea underscores the value of starting simple and upgrading only when necessary, ensuring that passion and skill development lead the way, rather than high-end equipment that may not yet be justified. i also am not trying to glorify a lack of excess or struggle. I think a balance between access and earning your way up through consistency and effort is the way to go. thanks for reading as always.

Mario Tennis: An important side-note: I was so incredibly bad at Mario Tennis the whole entire time, i was mocked relentlessly for how bad I was on that car ride. Weeks later, i purchased the game, and I am now an unstoppable force in Mario Tennis. My friend Sebastian is the founder of Brooklyn Comic Con, an event run through his events company Sexy Nerds. He often hosts N64 tournaments. I often dare him, to start a Mario Tennis tournament with a cash prize. I would undoubtedly win. I also have a deluded friend Chris Deming, who thinks he stands a chance at beating me. Nope. (We will have a tournament and post results in a future blog post.)