PATRICK MCVAY

WRITER

My Musings

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Dr. Hand Plane To Hawaii. Stat!

Years ago, I found myself in Hawaii -- never a bad place in which to find oneself -- and as often happens when you’re in Hawaii, I soon found myself on a beach. Well, wouldn’t you know it, suddenly there were waves, so I got in the water to give those waves a piece of my mind, and the next thing I knew I was wet. Great! Now what?

It seemed like a good time to body surf, which I consider myself to be a master of. Body surfing is great because you don’t need any of the fancy accessories that surfers and boogie boarders require, just your own blubbery ol’ naked body. (Full disclosure: it's not really legal to body surf naked at this juncture in human history).

And, in my case, that was pre-COVID blubber (so don’t ask what I look like now). Anyway, there I was, all wet, riding the waves with my hot (and yet blubbery) body, totally sans equipment, and the next thing I know a bodysurfer is coming at me at the speed of a large Hawaiian wave (which is very fast!). Except this particular body surfer was employing surfboards strapped to both hands. No kidding!

OK, they were mini surfboards, about the size of dinner plates, and had a name: “hand planes”! (Not to be confused with the kind of hand plane used to smooth out wood). Suddenly, here was yet another device I could purchase. Not quite as ridiculously expensive as getting a surfboard, but ridiculous enough to cost $150. So, really, is this the kind of dust-collecting device that I should spend yet more of my hard-earned money on, knowing that I’ll only use it when I’m in Hawaii, once in a blue moon?

Um, yes.

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