Surfer boys - A Romantic Manifesto

To the soundtrack of "Virgin Suicides" by Air


Last week I went to Spain.

One night, we decided to camp near a town called Ferrol, in a camping site by the coast. It was next to a beach, very remote. On the side of the camping where my parents choose to stay there were a few tents, it was closer ot the beach. And,while I helped with our own tent and sleeping bags, I saw them. Some 4 or 5 Spanish surfers, about my own age. They came in their wet suits with long curly hair and laughing of some joke. On the right, there was a French family, in a van with painted flowers. And they had three sons and they all came back from surfing, with long blonde hair and blue eyes. One of them passed by my tent and said "Hola", with a French accent.

For no reason at all, I felt disturbed. Well, there must be a reason, I just don't know what it is. What is this about surfers? I have listened to too many Jean and Dean records? What do they evoque that I want so badly?

It could be the freedom, the adventure. But, I have that. I got to a point where I am satisfied with the uncertainty of my future, I am free in that way. What is it then?

I can't really tell, but I would say it has something to do with their boyish face and the curly hair. It was not about the surf, it was about a sense of purity in the air, whenever they were around. A feeling that any look we could exchange could be nothing but true and clumbsy.

This summer I felt tired of all I ever lived in relationships. Of being pragmatic, of being cheated on, of pity-love, of unsaid love, of not talking, not being romantic, of wanting always to be with someone else, of being content with left-overs. I don't know how I got this way, but I did. I know many people did, and I see it everyday. What happen to us? We, that cried so truly in the cinema, we, who promised to count the stars once we had someone to help out, we, who wanted to hold on to a leather jacket cruising across America?

I call for a reclaim. We, who have the right to a proper highschool love, like the ones the movies promised. We, who will not give up on that summer night walk. We want it and we will fight for it, simply because it is worth it. Let us never again get fooled, never again compromise. From now on, true romance, like we wished for. No white weedings, but true, genuine romance. And in that case, it won't matter if you have spot on your face or you feel that the shoes don't match.

Because, there is one thing I know, there is one thing that is true.