Harsh reality dawns on oil-rich sheiks after throbbingly dull Surf Abu Dhabi Pro opener

Surfer and highest-ranking woman in Trump admin,
Tulsi Gabbard, the champs BFF.

On the same day the Director of National Intelligence
Tulsi Gabbard celebrated Kelly Slater’s fifty-third birthday
online, I present my birthday candle wish list, the Kelly
Slater version.

I wish I could be humble like Kelly.

I wish I could admire other people’s accomplishments and do
absolutely nothing to upstage their moment in the spotlight like
Kelly.

I wish I could declare truth and
slay lesser life forms on social media like Kelly.

I wish I could avoid being subsumed by the thirst of my own ego
like Kelly.

I wish I were a medical expert like Kelly.

I wish I could enjoy debating flat earth theory with weirdo
extremists like Kelly.

I wish I could despise keyboard warriors who don’t even surf pro
contests like Kelly.

I wish I could appreciate the beauty of turtles like Kelly.

I wish all of my clothing were sustainably sourced from
fair-trade-certified vendors like Kelly.

I wish I could get barreled in organic cotton jeans like
Kelly.

I wish when well-known surf publications stanned for access
journalism and soul selling it was because they wanted access to me
like Kelly.

I wish I could tell stories about that time I called Jack
Johnson into a wave at Pipe that ended with Jack face planting on
the reef (and not in a happy funny way like in a Curious George
movie) like Kelly.

I wish I could play the ukelele like Kelly.

I wish I could scatter my world
title trophies among my beautiful properties on every continent and
still have more title trophies left over than Mick Fanning has in
total like Kelly.

I wish my name were on a line of wave pools that I could surf
whenever I so desired, even in countries where maybe human rights
values don’t quite line up with freedom-obsessed types, like
Kelly.

I wish I could thread Backdoor barrels even in my sixth decade
like Kelly.

I wish I knew what Joe Rogan’s studio smelled like like
Kelly.

I wish I had realized how well the words “fire” and “wire” rhyme
like Kelly.

I wish Rob Machado would give me high fives like Kelly.

I wish I were on a first name basis with David Hasselhoff like
Kelly.

I wish I could appreciate shirts with horizontal stripes like
Kelly.

I wish I had a statue in my hometown of me doing a sweet tail
slide like Kelly.

I wish Shane Dorian wanted me to godparent his offspring like
Kelly.

I wish I knew what it felt like to win a Pipe title at 50 like
Kelly.

I wish my 52, 53-year-old pop-up were still quick like
Kelly.

I wish I could make no grab backside barrels at heaving
left-hand slabs like Kelly.

I wish I could inspire middle-aged online commenting losers to
reminisce about that time they saw me surfing the Inlet in the ‘80s
like Kelly.

I wish I knew how the aeronautics of rocket ships corresponded
to the hydrodynamics of surfboards like Kelly.

I wish I could gift my Eddie invite to worthy benefactors
because I’m so gracious like Kelly.

I wish I owned a Hawaiian villa I
could list for sale for multiple months for many millions like my
main man Kelly.

I wish I could show up maybe unannounced in the channel at Fiji
to mentor rising young surf stars like Kelly.

I wish I could test run baby names for months like Kelly.

But, most of all, I wish I could surf like Kelly.

Happy birthday, legend.