Jack and Tommy at Jalama

One of the few times I figure I will pull out a polaroid and have to go in search of its mates. These three photos are all connected for me. I was living in San Francisco at the time, Tommy was in L.A. and Jack was in Santa Barbara. We met for a weekend of surfing and cup 'o noodles at Jalama State Park but it was too blown out for any water exploits so we just got drunk. This trip then became notable in my memory mostly for two moments: Tommy open palm slapping me hard, across the face out of the blue, and, as we ate Taco Bell in Lompoc on our way out, Jack's pontification on African Cyclids.