Nearly 20 years ago, when I was either 16 or 17 years old I bought a 7’2 single-fin funboard from a pawnshop. It was only $40 and I thought it would be cool to try out a retro board. At the time I rode 6’3 shortboards. I was forty pounds lighter than I am now and more agile. I took the 7’2 out a few times but I didn’t appreciate it like I should have and went back to the shortboard. The 7’2 was painted over for some reason and wasn’t really anything special to me. So I told some friends I’d be willing to part with it for $20 and a case of beer. I found a buyer and the transaction was complete. I got drunk, I’m sure, but nothing really spectacular or memorable took place. A week later I went back to my buddy’s house who had bought the board and there propped up against the back wall of his living room was a late 60s or early 70s Dewey Weber* board shaped very similar to the board I had sold him.
“Did you get a new board?” I asked.
He took a long toke from his bong and after coughing for a few minutes, shook his head no.
“What is that?” I pointed to the board.
He smiled. “That’s the board you sold me for twenty dollars. I sanded the paint off and it’s a pretty damn nice board.”
“Why would someone paint over a Dewey Weber?”
“Well, shit. Let me buy it back from you?”
He shook his head no.
And for the next twenty years whenever I saw him, I’d ask about the Dewey Weber.
“I don’t ride it much,” he would say.
“Well, let me get it back.”
Two days ago, I got a text from him. All it said was “You want it?”
I knew what he meant and didn’t hesitate. It’s not in that great of shape anymore as you can see, but I plan on restoring it and maybe take it out for a ride this year. Hopefully this time I’ll have a better appreciation for what’s there.