Revolutionary Surf Company
Clyde lived in one bedroom apartment in Van Nuys, California. Van Nuys, is the
name of a city within the county of Los Angeles. It is part of the San Fernando Valley,
which is a half hour north by automobile from the City of Los Angeles.
In 1976, while the nation was celebrating it’s two hundred year independence
from Great Britain, Clyde was let go from the only job he ever had. It was during high
school that Clyde quit the school football team and took up surfing full time. It was a cult
like thing that happened among the small clique of his friends who would rise before the
sun and head to Malibu to surf for several hours before school. Clyde was given a job at
the Chevron on Van Nuys Boulevard, pumping gas. For a young guy who wanted to just
surf and pick up girls now and then, it was a great job.
Clyde eventually found a young woman who was into the surf culture as much as
he was. She was beautiful with straight blond hair and the body of a goddess. Clyde too
was attractive and had a thin frame with platinum blonde hair and a year round bronze
glow to his skin due to the sun. Mary and Clyde, married at the age to nineteen and had
two children. Mary surfed less and less and studied more. She enrolled at California
State University at Northridge or CSUN as it was known by the natives and became a
school teacher. Mary excelled in school and graduated with high marks. She taught
elementary school and went back to get her masters degree so that she could become a
school principle. By the time she and Clyde were thirty, she was a principle at a school in
North Hollywood called Saticoy School. Clyde still had a job pumping gasoline at the
Chevron. Clyde learned a lot about cars by working at the gas station but not enough to
secure a job as a mechanic and so like street car operators and ice men, Clyde lost his job
to the automation or the self service stations. People got used to pumping their gas. It became cheaper with the energy crisis, to have people pump their own. They drove little
Hondas and Datsuns instead of big Lincolns and Cadillacs. With no high school diploma,
the only job Clyde could find was a near by hot dog chain called Der Weinerschnitzel,
which was German for, the hot dog. Clyde had to wear a red shirt with the stores logo
and name on it and a white chef’s hat. He saw a lot of people who he went to high school
with and they too had families. The difference was that all of them had high school
diplomas and college educations and good jobs. Some were bankers, or loan officers or
worked for Hughes Aircraft in the aerospace industry. Clyde was serving fast food and
was nearly thirty years of age. Clyde’s wife Mary became very disappointed in her
husband’s desire to aspire to be something in life besides a surfer and a short order cook
and so she took up with another man suddenly. He never heard from her or his two small
children ever again.
Clyde moved out of the three bedroom home they rented in Sherman Oaks and
moved to the one bedroom apartment in Van Nuys. The building was sort of what the
people in the east referred to as a two flat. That meant that there were only two
apartments in the building. Clyde lived above the owners on the second floor. On the
first floor lived a Cuban family that had immigrated slightly after the time that Fidel
Castro, came to power. The father was a heavy smoker and died a few years back and the
wife immediately found another man and had him moved in before her husband’s body
became cold. The man she took up with was your conventional white man, probably
third or fourth generation Irish. This man had been having an extramarital tryst with the
Cuban woman prior to her husband’s expiration.
Now this Cuban couple had a beautiful daughter by the name of Bonita and Bonita or Bonnie as everyone called her, was seventeen years old. She was born in Cuba
but moved from there when she was four years old. Her family took refuge in the
Mexican embassy and were given asylum in the United States. All of Bonnie’s other
relatives still live in Cuba. Bonnie had straight dark hair and was very Spanish looking.
That is to say that she looked unlike the Aztec looking Mexicans who were a large part of
the population in the San Fernando Valley. Most people only knew of Ricky Ricardo as
the only Cuban inhabitant of the United States. Bonnie had full lips that made her appear
as if she were always pouting and had slightly slanted eyes, making people wonder if
possibly she might have some Japanese or Filipino in her. Bonnie was not a small girl.
Bonnie was curvy and voluptuous. She looked much older than her seventeen years of
age. Bonnie was very smitten with Clyde who lived above.
Now Bonnie’s mother was too consumed with trying to please the new man in her
life to pay much attention to her daughter who was nearly a woman. Bonnie was in her
last year at Grant High School and would probably take some typing courses at nearby
Valley College and try to get a job as a secretary.
Bonnie had a lot of boyfriends and admirers who had the hard look of desire on
their faces when they looked at Bonnie. She looked the part of a sex kitten as they called
them back in the days of burlesque. Bonnie couldn’t help how she looked. Like Marilyn
Monroe, she just naturally oozed sex appeal. The fact that Clyde was indifferent with her,
was perplexing. Bonnie knew that Clyde was thirteen years older than her and had been
married. She also knew that he lived a simple life and loved rising early to surf. One day
Bonnie approached Clyde.
“I would like to go with you one morning and watch you surf…”
“Um… Okay.”
So one week day morning at a few minutes before five, Clyde drove his 1964
Chevrolet Impala station wagon down the Ventura Freeway to the Topanga Pass towards
Malibu. The back seat was removed to make space for surf boards and the front seat was
a bench seat with the springs sticking up. In fact, Bonnie was shifting her weight quite a
bit to keep the spring from digging into her ass.
Bonnie sat on the cold sand, covered with a blanket and watched Clyde and a few
other young surfers, ride the waves as the sun began to light the early morning sky.
Within time, Bonnie accompanied Clyde nearly everyday and then she began to spend
nights and before long, she was practically living with Clyde.
One day Clyde and Bonnie were at a mini market picking up a few small items so
that they wouldn’t have to queue up in the local chain grocery store. The clerk behind the
counter was reading the racing form, looking for good bets for the races later in the day at
Santa Anita Race Track. Bonnie grabbed some milk and some toilet paper and a bomb
pop while Clyde looked through the latest issue of Surfer Magazine.
“I know that dude! Totally bogus. That dude was a total hodad, poser.
Unbelievable… Now he has his own boards.”
Of course Bonnie wasn’t listening. She was waiting patiently for the clerk to peel
his eyes from the race form to ringer her up. The clerk gave her the total and then Bonnie
had to ask for a bag.
“Honey, come carry this stuff…”
As Clyde walked up to the counter, two young Mexican men walked in. They
both had nylons pulled over their faces. They wore baggy pants with shiny shoes and tank top t shirts under flannel shirts. One stood at the door and kept watch while the
other walked up with a cannon of a gun.
“Keep yer hands were I can see dem, bato. Don’t try no shit an you live to see
another day, essay… Pinchay cavrone… Dis eess all you got een dah register? I’m
gonna have to take some tequila too… Lay down, bitch and quit looking at me.”
He used duct tape to tape their hands behind their backs. The clerk with the
racing form, still had his cigar in his mouth while he laid face down behind the register.
A few minutes later, a customer removed the duct tape from their wrists. Bonnie asked
the clerk if he was going to call the police. The clerk sort of shrugged and went back to
his form.
Bonnie thought about the whole incident. It was the first and only time she had
ever been in the middle of a robbery. She couldn’t believe how easy it looked and how
matter of fact the clerk was about losing so much money. Bonnie thought about the
prospect of living from hand to mouth with the surfer who was totally satisfied to just
work at a fast food restaurant for the rest of his life. One morning on the way back from
surfing, Bonnie told Clyde of their plans. Bonnie, who was then a full eighteen years old
and done with high school, was used to being the one with vision in their relationship and
so Bonnie discussed her plans with Clyde.
“Listen baby, you have vacation time you never take and I think we should go on a
little trip.”
“That sounds bitchin. Where you wanna go, like Mexico?”
“No baby. You know I’m Cuban, right?”
“Yeah you mentioned that…”
“So Cubans don’t come from Mexico. They come from Cuba. Cuba is an island
like Catalina. It isn’t that much further from Florida than Catalina is from Los Angeles.”
“So we’re going to Cuba?”
“We’re gonna try real hard, mi cielo… First we’re going to see America on our
way to Florida.”
“You can surf in Cuba, right, mi amore?”
“It is surrounded by the ocean, love of my life…”
“Then you know me, babe. I’m like totally down with it… I can bring my board
right?”
“If you really want to, precious, bring your toys with you…”
“Awesome…”
And so they set out on their vacation towards the east on a Monday, after surfing,
before traffic got too bad on Pacific Coast Highway. Clyde drove all the way out to the
dessert with his arm around Bonnie. They sang Beach Boy tunes from the eight track
player he had installed. Clyde also liked Dick Dale, Dwayne Eddy and Jan and Dean but
the Beach Boys were his favorite.
They stopped at a road side diner in the middle of no where in the Mojave
Desert. The waitress was sort of short tempered with them. There were a few other
truckers in the restaurant and the cook. Bonnie had asked her twice to come back because
she needed time.
“Darlin, we got six things on the menu… Watchu think you getting?”
“Okay fine… I’ll just have a cheeseburger with fries and a shake…”
“We got two kinds of shakes, the vanilla kind and the chocolate kind… Which one you want?”
The waitress then rolled her eyes and walked off. They got their food fast as it
was fast food and they ate it relatively fast also. Bonnie had a few fries and some bites of
her hamburger and maybe a few sips at best of the shake. The waitress made a comment
about that.
“Y’all shoulda ordered the kiddy plate if this was all you was gonna eat… Seems
a damn shame with all the starvation in the world.”
Bonnie had enough of the woman’s attitude. She felt that now that she was
legally a woman, people had to start treating her with respect.
“Ma’am, if your so concerned with the food, you’re welcome to do whatever you
want with it. You don’t look like you missed to many meals, to me.”
The waitress scribbled the total and slammed it down on the table. Clyde sensing
tension, went over and paid the bill. He was apologetic which just angered Bonnie
more. Bonnie lectured Clyde as they walked to the car.
“Baby, you got to learn to be my knight in shining armor. You can’t saying sorry
to no fat ass bitch because you thought I was mean. That woman was rude, mi hito.
Don’t do that, okay?”
“Sure babe… You know me.”
They drove across the street to get some gas and check the oil. Ironically enough
it was a Chevron station and they still had a man who pumped the gas, checked the oil
and filled the tires. Bonnie excused herself to go to the bathroom. She walked back
across the street to the back of the restaurant and put on a large black poncho, black
gloves and a Richard Nixon mask. She walked in with a Snoopy pillow case and a gun that she purchased off of some Mexican gangsters in the park near their apartment back in
Van Nuys. Bonnie locked the door and fired the gun at the ceiling once. Plaster fell on
her head.
“Everybody over here in the middle of the floor… You! In the back! Get up
here!”
She duct taped their eyes and hands behind their backs and withdrew a little over
$200.00 from the register. She pulled the shades down and turned off the lights and
exited through the kitchen door and walked over to the car as if nothing had happened.
Clyde saw Bonnie coming from the direction of the restaurant and asked her why she had
gone back over there.
“I got to thinking about it and decided I would make things right, baby. Let’s go
now!”
They drove through the night and stayed in a road side motel run by real
descendants of the people Columbus was supposed to have discovered. They were really
a dark bronze. Clyde had never seen a real native American before. He was in awe. He
asked to take a picture with them. They did for $5.00.
Now Bonnie being quite street smart and a complete thinker, studied out every
place they hit along the way east. She robbed a whole string of places in Texas and even
brought them up into Oklahoma to rob a place right over the border before they headed
back south and stayed way down south in the bayous of Louisiana. It was there that they
met a kindly old Cajun man. Bonnie initially wanted to rob him but couldn’t bring
herself to doing it.
“People calls me ay-tee-yen. It dare French fo Steven. Ma people come down the Mississip Riviere all dah way dare from watchu have there in Canada called New
Brunswick, close dare to Quebec. Some hundred year plus an we don here speak Cajun.
We mix dah French wit dah Anglais an make watchu got dare Creole.”
“Can you say something for us in Cajun?” Asked Bonnie.
“Quand vous restez ici, vous etes chay vous… Dat der mean dat when you stay
right-cheer, you already home.”
That night they ate crawfish in a stew and drank some homemade concoction out
of a mason jar, all compliments of Etienne and his large family. Other Cajuns got
together that night and played Cajun music. Bonnie liked the Cajuns. They were poor
people who loved life. The songs were unlike anything they had ever heard before. They
had violins, an accordian and a man with a wash board strapped to his chest. Most of
there songs were sung in French with a strong twang. Nobody seemed to mind the two
foreigners amongst them. People danced and drank just the same. Clyde and Bonnie
danced and drank until they could barely stand. They retired to their cabin built on stilts
above a swamp. There was no air-conditioning in the room, just a ceiling fan that
squeaked. They fell asleep in a pool of sweat in each other’s arms as the music played on
and the Cajun’s continued to party.
They met some really nice people in the deep south and it became harder and
harder for Bonnie to want to rob good, simple people of their hard earned money. Bonnie
decided that she would have to incorporate Clyde and they would try their hands at a few
banks. With banks being insured and all by the government. The idea of borrowing
money from banks, knowing the government would return the money to the banks, made
Bonnie feel as though it was justifiable.
“Robbing banks! Baby, I would go through a brick wall for you but not banks…
Where’d you get such a crazy thought, my love?”
“You might have wondered how we got all this money, sweetie pie. I borrowed
from a few places along the way. When you gassed up, I was making withdraws. The
way I see it, if we hit two banks, we are set for Cuba.”
It was in a really hick town in Mississippi where the people were quite uninviting.
They all seemed to look at Bonnie and Clyde strangely and without the hospitality that
they had grown accustomed to. One motel denied them a room.
“I am a good Christian woman and I don’t allow no fornicating in my place of
business. If y’all can prove you married, I be more than happy to get you a room for the
night. Y’all come from California? People sure are different there, ain’t they?”
So it was in a small Mississippi town that Bonnie scoped out a small savings and
loan. There was an elderly man in a uniform with a gun that looked like it never left the
holster. There was a bank manager who had large square glasses and a walrus like
moustache and thick side burns. He had a large stomach that drooped over his belt line.
He was a jovial man. The two attendants were younger women in their early twenties.
People filed in an out of the bank, making small talk with the security guard about fishing
and gardening. One woman discussed seeing an unusual breed of woodpecker in her
backyard with the president who is a bird watcher. Bonnie came in with a blond wig and
granny glasses to inquire about opening an account. She let the bank president know that
she was a student at the nearby college. He gave her a few forms and Bonnie was on her
way. Just before closing the following day, Bonnie and Clyde came into the bank. They
both had on dark clothing. Bonnie wore a Richard Nixon mask and Clyde wore a Lyndon B. Johnson mask, both with highly exaggerated noses.
“Can I have your attention… This is a hold up. Everyone on the ground and
don’t make a sound and we’ll have no problems,” said Bonnie, while holding a gun to the
bank president’s head.
Clyde stood by the door and kept look out. The door was locked. Bonnie ordered
Clyde to duct tape the hands of everyone in the bank. Clyde apologized to an older
woman who was crying.
“I’m really sorry ma’am… If I wouldn’t have lost my job at the Chevron and had
to go to work at Der Weinerschnitzel, we probably wouldn’t have had to do this.”
“Baby, please shut the hell up. You don’t need to be talking to nobody. Just do
your job and we’ll be on our way.”
Clyde stuffed more money into bags than the bags could hold. Stacks and stacks
of hundreds, fifties and twenties. Before leaving, Clyde put two hundred dollars in the
purse of the crying old woman and they were gone. When the crossed into Georgia,
Clyde and Bonnie fought over selling the wagon.
“Sweetie, I got news for you; where we are going, you cannot take the wagon with
you.”
“Where the hell are we going?”
“Don’t worry where we’re going. All you need to know is that there is a lot of
surfing. You can spend the rest of your life riding the waves.”
“Okay… Cool. But I wanna keep the wagon. Can‘t we take it on a boat to Cuba, my love?”
“What don’t you understand about not being able to keep it? Look, when we get
where we’re going, I promise you we’ll find something just as old and probably nicer.”
And so they traded the old wagon for a newer model Ford truck so that Clyde
could keep his prized surfboard. They drove through the night and made Key West, late
in the day. Bonnie left Clyde at the hotel and went looking to buy a boat. She found a
large speed boat with two large outboard motors. They large Chrysler engines. The
owner of the boat store gave Bonnie a good deal. Bonnie went back to retrieve Clyde and
by nightfall, they were headed due south. The trip took a little over three hours on a night
with a full moon and a placid ocean. It was close to two in the morning when they
reached shore. Upon docking the boat, they were apprehended by the police. Clyde had
no idea where he was. All he knew was that everyone was speaking Spanish and they had
a rifle against his spine.
A military officer sat with his feet up on his desk, smoking a large Cohiba Cigar.
He wore a round military ball cap in olive green to match his uniform. He began to ask
Bonnie questions in Spanish.
“So what you are saying is that you and your… Husband?”
“Yes my husband.”
“Yes your husband. You and your husband are political fugitives who have been
plotting to overthrow the American government…”
“Yes that is correct, commandant.”
“You mean to tell me that this man here… Your husband… Looking like
someone who has just left the beach, could tell me the difference between, let’s say the
Democratic Party and the Republicans?”
“Most certainly, commandant…”
“Here’s what I am thinking, comrade… I think that maybe you and this man…
Your husband, Yes? Yes… I think it is possible that you were just common criminals in
the United States and rather than face jail time, you thought you might come back to
Cuba…”
Bonnie began to cry and spun a story of great proportions. Even the commandant
was impressed. He did not believe it but he was impressed.
“We left California last week and drove all the way from Florida and risked death
to get here. I don’t remember Cuba but I do remember all the things my parents told me
and realized that my happiness lies here, in the place of my birth. We want to spread the
word to Cubans that America is truly the great evil. We want the people here to know
about the huge disparity in America. The haves have a lot and have nots suffer
immensely. I believe with all my being in what is being done here in Cuba. I would
stand on a mountain to profess this…”
“And your husband. He feels this passion for equality? He could tell me who
Karl Marx was possibly Lenin. He could identify who Fidel was and what he fought for
and what he fought against?”
“Here’s the thing, commandant, my husband is slightly… How do I say this
exactly? He is a bit dense… His heart is in the right place though.”
They separated Bonnie from Clyde. They sent in an English speaking interpreter
to question Clyde. Clyde was in a room without windows. In the room were two chairs
and a desk with a naked bulb suspended from the ceiling. The government official was a
very pretty woman. Uncommonly beautiful. Her name was Miranda and she tried to come off as Clyde’s friend.
“So tell me, what was it you did in the United States?”
“Well you know, I believe in taking it easy, man. Y’know like my thing is to surf.
I surf everyday. Some people pray and go to church and all but I’m sort of one with
nature and god when I’m on my board… It’s hard to explain but like you got the whole
Pacific Ocean and it’s like the biggest thing in the world and we have this gift… No
amount of money is worth the feeling I get from surfing… I worked and all at the
Chevron on Vanowen for a long time and people pump their own gas now and so I took
up with Der Weinerschnitzel last year. I don’t mind it and all. Bonnie thinks I should
look for another job but I’m cool with it. I told her if we have kids and all that maybe I
could find work in like a shoe store or something like that. I just need something where I
can work with my hands…”
“I see… Tell me how you felt about the Vietnam War.”
“It was mostly bogus… I mean who really cares if they wanted to be communist.
Let em be, man… Live and let live is my motto. I did have an uncle who surfed there
during the war. He said it wasn’t too bad…”
“How do you feel about communism?”
“Well like I try not to get too bogged down in the stuff I can’t really change in
life. People are worried about Russians and commies and all. I think if people really
wanna have that sort of thing, we shouldn’t try and kill them over it… Buy the world a
Coke and have a smile…”
“Yes… How do you feel about the redistribution of wealth?”
“Whoa… You’re hitting me with some scientific stuff there… What does that mean?”
“How do you feel about a few people having so much and many having very
little? Do you feel it is right for everyone to have an equal share?”
“I guess that’s cool and all… I guess I would be a little worried if the dentist was
making the same as the dude scooping up elephant shit at the zoo… I mean like if he had
no incentive to do better, y’know what I mean? Hey, can I ask you something?”
“Yes…”
“Are all the babes here as hot as you? I have to tell you that you’re smoking…”
Clyde and Bonnie were separated for a long period of time. Clyde wound up in a
prison filled with people who had difficulty following the strict laws provided. Nobody
around Clyde spoke English and so he kept to himself. Bonnie was kept with dissidents
in a female prison and was questioned daily for hours. News traveled all the way to the
top. The president of the entire country heard about the couple and saw a chance to use it
as a propaganda tool. He ordered both to meet with him in Havana. They ate well and
were offered alcohol. Clyde was even offered a cigar. The president laughed with delight
at the things that Bonnie said to him. They were so vehemently anti-American that it
warmed his heart. Being a man who understands the power of persuasion and possessing
the gift of communication, he was highly impressed by Bonnie and saw a chance to use
them as a tool.
On May 1st there was a large parade and many people came to hear the president
speak. A lot of people had no choice unless the wanted to chance imprisonment. Be that
as it may, the president had an audience. It was during his four hour speech that he
introduced Clyde and Bonnie. They stood beside the president and looked out at the crowd that stretched as far back as the eye could see.
“Comrades… Here before us are two great people who have left their country, the
United States of America, to live among us. They escaped political persecution and
braved the open seas to come here. Many of you hear false stories of people trying to get
to Florida on little rafts. Right here in the flesh are two patriots who have escaped the
grip of tyranny, imperialism and decadence to be part of the revolution… Long live the
Revolution!”
Now the president, being a master at using symbols as tools, used Clyde and
Bonnie to his advantage. It was like driving a thumb tack into the ass of a giant. It would
not kill but it would hurt like hell. So it was that the duo were given a fifteen minute
television program that would air just before the state run evening news. It became an
instant hit with the entire nation. Everyone would tune in to hear the bizarre and horrid
accounts of things that took place in the United States. They had theme music taken from
a movie staring Warren Beatty and Faye Dunaway. It was banjo music that was played
during the chase scenes from the movie, Bonnie and Clyde. Bonnie wore a red beret and
scarf with an olive green military shirt and Clyde usually wore an Ocean Pacific t shirt or
his Los Angeles Dodgers t shirt. Bonnie would read from the teleprompter in Spanish.
“Today in the United States, two thousand auto workers were laid off in the state
of Michigan, in the city of Detroit. Many will be forced to look for new jobs which will
require a college education. The paradox is that university education is not guaranteed
by the state. Many will become homeless and live in parks…”
The screen flashed images of homeless men sitting in a park, drinking out of a
bottle on a park bench as well as angry auto workers, burning a car outside an auto plant in Flint, Michigan. There was also the human interest story of a man who worked in a
textile plant who killed his entire family and then himself after his company moved to
Guyana. Gerald Ford was portrayed as a buffoon who stumbled into power on the heals
of the Watergate scandal. They showed Police brutality and urban blight. They showed
pollution in rivers and lakes and even a fire on Lake Erie near the city of Cleveland.
There was also acid rain, Three Mile Island and oil soaked birds from a tanker spill in
Alaska and so forth. People in Cuba began to feel really good about their plight. The
revolution was getting a bit stagnant after twenty years and so this helped. When it was
Clyde’s turn to speak, he gave the surf report for a few minutes each day. He too read
from a teleprompter and the nation fell in love with his poor verbal skills in Spanish.
“Hello comrades, it is I, Clyde with the surf report…”
They would play surf tunes, Wipe Out and Pipeline, while Clyde pointed to
various spots on the map of Cuba.
“Dudes… Get ready for action coming out of Cape Verde. There’s a storm
brewing like a bowl of Ceviche. Look for waves to be break at above six feet off of
Oriente by Tuesday. Due to the full moon, the action should be cool all over the island…
Let’s go over the vocab for this week, get your pens ready… Stoked, the word is stoked.
That means that you feel really good about the prospects of some really radical waves.
The opposite would be bummed. You’d be bumming over not so radical waves. That
brings us to the next word; radical. Not to be confused with some political term of some
dude who is way out there on a limb. Radical means something really cool. Word three;
hodad, the word is hodad. That is a poser, fake and phony. If the dude is faking he is a
true hodad. Next words are gnarly and bitchen. You can use them both interchangeably.
Both are cool words used to describe awesome waves. You could use toasty too. So this
is the sentence for the week in English… Follow the bouncing ball…
Dude, don’t be a poser, hodad sporting the baggies on a bitchen day when the radical
swells are toasty, gnarly. Don‘t be bumming me when I‘m stoked, bro… This has been
Bonnie and Clyde saying so long and long live the revolution.”
The state provided them an apartment in Havana within walking distance to the
television station. Clyde came up with an idea to manufacture surf boards called,
Revolution Surf Company. Each surf board had the heads of Fidel Castro, Ernesto Che
Guevara, Karl Marx and Clyde, set up like Mount Rushmore. Of course the surf boards
were illegal in the United States just as were Cuban cigars, but there were hardcore
surfers that would find them somewhere on the black market and pay through the nose for
them. The Revolution Surf Company was state owned and their profits were substantial.
Aside from the boards, they had t shirts, shorts and towels with the same Rushmore
looking logo. It was a hit on the west coast where Clyde once lived.
People around the world that lived to surf, bought the surf boards made in Cuba. Every
year in May, they had a surf competition that Clyde would judge.
Bonnie and Clyde married in 1978 in a wedding that was publicized nearly as
much as Prince Charles and Lady Diana’s was in England. They went on to have two
boys that both took up surfing. They still reside in the apartment provided for them by
the government and exist on a meager salary. Clyde never cared. It was about the same
as he made at Der Weinerschnitzel and at least now he had health care coverage and was
taken care of by the government like a good big brother. He was given a 1957 Chevrolet
Bel-Air station wagon compliments of the president. To this day, you can find Clyde heading to the beach early in the morning. Occasionally you can find Bonnie on the shore
watching him.
