Laird 

Laird Hamilton is a guy that looks exactly like a guy named Laird Hamilton should look. Blond hair: quaffed but still messy. He struts. He poses.

 He’s got a definitively he-man fridge and freezer (by this I mean his fridge and freezer are stocked with foods that help someone look like an action figure). One would think a man this macho is primordial (like he’s the missing link between humans and whatever we were before humans), that he would spawn out of some kind of swamp of muck and bog and bootstraps, but that is wrong. A he-man is created through intensity and focus and diet. So says Laird. He is so burly and granite chinned because he’s intense. He focuses on waves.

I have never met Laird. But I’ve watched a lot of videos on the internet of Laird being interviewed. I actually think this is the best way to get to know Laird because the way he presents he is a hardly a human being but rather a projection of masculinity. Plato’s cave but the shadow is a perfect version of a philosopher dude bro. My youtube feed has become postures of men I would like to resemble. Sometimes I feel girly. I bought a big new pack of Hanes undershirt tanktops to strut around my house in. I didn’t know that I felt so inadequate but spending all my time cooped up watching very heteronormative men do macho things and then watching other, less heteronormative men, interview these macho men about their machoness has made me feel, perhaps, less than.

 You might not know who Laird Hamilton is. And that would make sense because his magnificence is quiet: his achievements won’t be heard of unless you’re really listening, unless you’re tuned into a certain kind of extremity. An extremity that is sponsored by Mountain Dew and EPIC beef jerky. Ironic, because Laird would never, ever eat those things. 

Laird was the first big wave surfer. His claim to fame, besides being super fearless and manly and tough and strong, is that he was the first person to surf waves over 40 ft tall. What is really crazy is that normally in surfing a person uses their back hand on the back side of their surfboard to balance out the hydraulic torque of the wave but this wave Laird rode was so big, that that wouldn’t work, so he had to use his hand on the front side of his surfboard to balance out the whatever. I have never surfed and the ocean scares me but I learned all this through surfing videos that the Youtube algorithm gave to me. What makes this insane is that in surfing you can’t really practice. Each wave is a singular and profound phenomenon, so when you’re surfing 40 ft waves for the first time ever, the surfer really has no idea what is about to happen and so there is something amazing about Laird that while being on this huge wave for the first time ever he intuitively knew that he had to do the opposite with his hand of what he had done his entire life. Like shit, I’m really making fun of him here because he seems like such a macho jerk and answers everything in vague aphorism, saying things like “the thing about big surf, is once it is past a certain size, the wave I mean, big is big” and he could be talking about his calves or his biceps or his pectorals because when it comes to Laird, big is big. But Jesus that maneuver on the wave is impressive.

Because of that crazy stunt, Laird walks around like he has the absolute biggest you-know-what. It swangles with every step. I imagine Laird smells like what axe body spray is based off of.

Back to his fridge because that’s where his power comes from (and I think that anyone that watches an interview with Laird is watching it to absorb some of his power, to see exactly how he turned into this middle school boy idea of manliness). DIET IS HOW YOU BECOME A GREAT ATHLETE. Not from anything else, from his diet. He says “I like to eat plants and animals” as if this is some deep runic shit. No cheetos for Laird. He opens his fridge and OH MY! There’s a package of Eggo waffles. EGGO WAFFLES! He scoffs and says those are for my daughter. She’s thirteen and the tone with which he says it let’s you know she is not in on that runic shit. She will never surf a big wave.

 Laird talks about his wife like she is a big wave. An accoutrement to his ability to see, and raise above challenges. She doesn’t cook. Laird does the cooking.  He married her after knowing her eight days. She seems nice in interviews. Nice enough where I wanna shake her and say why are you this man’s accoutrement??? Just kidding I’m sure Laird is nice to her. It’s so funny his name is Laird. Say it out loud, explore the mouthfeel of the word: Laird. It’s absolutely hilarious. Anyways, he is asked, why did you marry her so soon? And he laughs and says, “I’m a big wave rider. We commit. That’s what we do!” This makes me think about my own fear of commitment, big wave or otherwise. When I order spaghetti at a restaurant I immediately wonder why I didn’t order the eggplant parm. This man gets towed onto 40ft waves from a jet ski and pummels through the barrel unafraid of death.

I’m committed to Laird’s committing. I’m committed to watching every interview with Laird because I hope his swangling rubs off on me. I would have expected Laird to say “dude” more, but I haven’t heard him say it a single time.

One time Laird says, in reference to how tall a wave is, “You don’t need a number. The number is greater than you can endure.” And he’s right, but Laird endured it. Laird endures.

Sam Bickford is a North Carolinian and MFA Candidate at Louisiana State University. He recently tried to bike the Natchez Trace but was foiled 300 miles in by food poisoning at a Red Roof Inn in Tupelo, Mississippi. He will never stay at a Red Roof Inn again. Work in GASHER, Ilanot Review, and elsewhere.