It was the summer of 1958. I was a 20-year-old life guard in San Clemente, California, which to date is the only real job Ive ever held. At nights I worked as a glorified janitor at Dale Velzys surf shop. Occasionally, while I swept up, Dale would show an 8mm surf film Id made while stationed on a submarine in Hawaii. He charged 25 cents, and on a big night wed rack in as much as six dollars. Dale, however, being one of surfings great characters, envisioned bigger and better things for me. We spent the summer negotiating about making a real (16mm) surf film. Hed pay for it and I would make it.
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