When Dwight Harrington (the first* surfer in Italy) and I rolled up to this busy evening on the streets of Gaeta, Italy, we were feeling a little self-conscious about setting up and doing our thing here. Not that we thought anyone would mind if I painted him playing and singing his heart out on the street, we were just a couple of out-of-place american tourists in a town full of Italians. The language barrier was daunting. The bartender caught wind of us and promptly brought us both shots of whatever we liked. Nerves settled. What’s really funny is the name of the bar was RUDE. I beg to differ.
