The Verdict -- Robert Gardner
Once upon a time, there was a character in the surfing world known as
Peanuts Larson. For all I know he may still be around since my surfing
days are long passed. His real name was George Zimmerman, and just why or
how he became Peanuts Larson escapes me.
Larson was an original. If there was a regular way to do something and
an original, hair-brained crazy way to do it, Larson always spurned the
regular and went his highly personalized way.
For example, one night, I heard some noise on my front porch but
ignored it. Next morning, I found a huge redwood stump on the porch with
a note attached that read, “To the Judge, from George.”
Larson shaped surfboards. I hired him to shape one for me. For $25, he
went to Compton, bought a huge slab of redwood and balsa and spent the
winter shaping it. Never knew much about that board. Those were the days
of the huge redwood and balsa boards, and San Onofre was the only place
to surf.
Whenever I went to San Onofre, Larson was waiting for me. He would beg
me to let him take the board “just to test it.” When he came in, it was
usually dark, and he would tell me that it was a great board. I never
found out.
When WWII came along, I sold the board for $50, and when I came back,
my board surfing days were over.
Larson had a highly personalized telephone personality. If the phone
rang and you picked up the receiver and a voice gave you the local
latitude and longitude, you knew it was Larson.
He was not the most reliable man in town. For example, he was once
arrested on some minor charge and I got him off on the promise of a dozen
bull lobsters. Never got a one.
The last time I saw Larson, we were having a drink together at a bar
in San Clemente. The door opened, a cop appeared and Larson took off like
an Olympic hurdles champion, leaping from table top to table top with an
appropriate crashing of glasses at each table.
I haven’t heard from him since then, but if the phone ever rings and a
voice gives me longitude and latitude, I’ll know that Peanuts Larson is
alive and well -- probably some place where the water is warm and the
surf is close to perfect.
* ROBERT GARDNER is a Corona del Mar resident and a former judge. His
column runs Tuesdays.
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