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Honolulu Lite Charles Memminger |
Irate French wiped
out by wave columnMy recent column "trash-talkin'" the French surfers who were finalists in the Billabong "biggest wave in the world" contest prompted some creative writing by our European friends, my favorite being: "I'm Romuald Jonqua from Basque country and I tell you to stay forever idiot American like you are."
But I also liked the e-mail from an Englishman living in France who called the column "appallingly fallacious even if somewhat well-written drivel."
And I was entertained although a bit confused by Gibus de Soultrait's analysis: "You may write with humor but you certainly lose dignity. What a shame to read such an article coming from the country of the Duke. Hopefully, he did not read your words."
I'm fairly sure Duke Kahanamoku, being somewhat deceased, didn't read the column, but apparently everyone in France did and I've heard from most of them. I can report that they are an excitable lot with a tenuous grasp of the finer points of advanced American humor writing. For instance, when I said that in the photo of a guy surfing a 60-foot wave at France's Belharra Reef, "you can make out Jerry Lewis floating on an air mattress drinking a glass of champagne," the French readers didn't realize that, first, I was kidding, and second, it is mandatory to mention Jerry Lewis in any humor column about France.
In e-mails filled with insults and vitriol and spewing hatred against me and Americans in general, my foreign correspondents attempted to gently advise me not to spread hatred against fellow ocean-lovers. The point they missed was that the column was the kind of tongue-in-cheek trash-talking that takes place before every U.S. sporting competition and which no one takes seriously. It was the equivalent of me saying to Gibus de Soultrait, "Your mother wears Army boots," except that would imply that France actually has an army. (Easy, Gibus, it's a joke.)
I accidentally caused this diplomatic rift in Anglo-Franco relations when I wrote about the Billabong contest that awarded at least $60,000 to the person photographed riding the largest wave of the year. The finalists were two Hawaii surfers, Makua Rothman and Noah Johnson, and Australian Cheyne Horan, who all rode giant Jaws off Maui. Two surprise finalists, Fred Basse and Sebastian St. Jean, popped up from France on an enormous French wave. I merely pointed out that, while large, the French wave wasn't as gnarly or dangerous as Jaws. Contest judges agreed and awarded Makua Rothman $66,000, or $1,000 per foot of wave height. (Using that exchange rate, the largest wave I ever surfed would have paid $547.)
David Bianic, of Surf Session magazine in Biarritz, said the current U.S.-French arguments about Iraq have nothing to do with surfing, and he hoped "we can live without such anger" as appeared in my column.
Pascoe de Glanville, the Englishman, said surfing and war are as different as "chalk and cheese ... the difference between killing people and having fun." He misses the point that for Saddam Hussein and his psychotic sons, killing people was having fun.
For the record, Alain Gardinier, the photog who shot the French wave, said he loved the column, especially "the Jerry Lewis part."
Charles Memminger, winner of National Society of Newspaper Columnists awards, appears Mondays, Wednesdays, Fridays and Sundays. E-mail cmemminger@starbulletin.com