Knee Deep in the Rivers of Rage

So the wife and I drove down to SECRET SURF TOWN in anticipation of the so-called "100 Year Swell" generated by a massive storm off New Zealand. Drove all night, and Friday morning I was greeted with this. How perfectly goddamned serene. Yeah, the south-facing summer spots were breaking more than usual, but come on.
Now, I know what you're thinking at this point: "what a snob, The Author must be. Is he some sort of hot dog surfer who turns his nose up such waves?"
Answer: NO!
I'm actually quite clumsy. And I haven't been surfing much since the arrival of the offspring. In fact, I was relieved that the surf wasn't huge and pounding and other dirty-sounding adjectives.
What is the purpose of this posting? Please tell me. Bray, bray.