Extended Family : Successful Paskowitzes Gather to Record a Song

Like an aging warrior, a battered camper rumbles into the parking lot of Media Ventures studios on a recent afternoon, coming to rest next to a Mercedes.

Dorian Paskowitz, 70, the slender, white-haired patriarch of America’s foremost surfing family, jumps out toting a video camera in one hand and a bag of bagels in the other.

“Look, there’s my son Israel,” the part-time San Clemente resident says excitedly, gesturing toward a crowd of young men and women huddled together near the recording studio entrance. “Will he come down here looking like a human being? No? He grows a Fu Manchu beard and winds up looking like Rita Hayworth after a bad night.”

Paskowitz, a Stanford doctor who abruptly junked a lucrative private practice to roam the world in a camper with his wife and nine children, has brought his brood to town to record a song written by his eldest son, David, 32. The song, “It’s Real,” is inspired by the family’s unusual past--most of which was spent living a mobile existence in a tiny camper in search of the next wave.

A curious blend of Swiss Family Robinson and the Partridge Family, the Paskowitzes traveled their own world. From the clear, lukewarm waters of the Mediterranean to Cabo San Lucas in Mexico, their motto remained the same: to take only what they needed to survive, eat simply, live clean and surf whenever possible.

For years, the family’s only home was a blue camper 96 inches wide, 78 inches high and 20 feet long. They figured that there was just enough room to allow each child 3 cubic feet in which to grow up.

Outsiders were quick to dismiss the clan as a sorry freak show, a ragtag bunch of unschooled youths whose parents were crazy to raise them without basic necessities such as a house, formal education, Boy Scouts and Little League.

But now that they’re all grown up, the Paskowitz children, ages 16 to 32, are the envy of many conventional parents. No one is strung out on drugs or serving time behind bars. Everyone can read and write. Unlike their parents who shunned society entirely, each of the Paskowitz offspring has struck out on his or her own career, choosing the best from both worlds.

Paskowitz children’s names read like a Who’s Who of biblical history:

David, who lives in San Clemente, is the lead singer for a surfing rock band. Jonathan, 30, is a world-class long board surfer and partner in a skateboarding company in San Clemente.

Abraham, 29, lives in a two-story Victorian in San Francisco and markets surf wear. Israel, 28, lives in San Clemente and is a world-class long board surfer who modeled surf wear for Nike.

Moses, 26, runs a surfboard marketing company in San Clemente. Adam, 25, a singer who lives in the Los Angeles area, recently signed a recording contract with a SBK Records. Salvador, 23, a San Clemente-based graphic artist, has designed a surfing comic strip called “Riders of Steel” that will soon be made into a television cartoon show.

The only daughter, Navah, 21, a model, shares an apartment in San Clemente with Salvador and Joshua, 16, the youngest, who works for Jonathan.

Conspicuously absent from the recording session is Adam, who has changed his last name and cut all ties with his unconventional family.

“Adam feels that he has to distance himself from the family to make his own way,” says the senior Paskowitz.

“Trust me, Dad, I’m your sixth son,” says Salvador, who is actually the seventh son.

“We’re pretty lucky to come out the way we did,” says Jonathan. “But when you boil it down, we are the most normal people I have ever met.”

The senior Paskowitz, who still spends most of the year living in a camper in Cabo San Lucas, Mexico, with his wife Juliette, maintains that their family secret was really quite simple.

“(If) you want kids, then you’re supposed to take care of them,” Paskowitz said. “I told my wife shortly after our honeymoon that what I wanted her to do was at least the same that animals do for their babies. Animals in the wild take care of their kids, and the first thing they do is hold them near.

“I felt it was worth it to me to be near the kids more than anything else even if it meant making a bare living,” Paskowitz said.

Paskowitz, who graduated from Stanford Medical School in 1946, says he quit his medical practice before his eldest son was born because he decided that it was impossible to work 40 to 50 hours a week and raise a family.

Instead, he and Juliette, a classically trained opera singer from Mexico, opted to devote all of their energies to their children. “We were willing to give up some of the things that in a whole lifetime people will find out are less than fulfilling,” Paskowitz said. “Juliette and I used to wake up our kids at night just to play with them.”

They carted their children off on an around-the-world odyssey to Egypt, Lebanon, Israel and assorted cities in the U.S. and Mexico. They spent the night in airport parking lots, parks and beaches.

Paskowitz would offer his services at low-income hospitals across the United States and in Mexico. He supplemented his income by writing a series of health-related articles for Surfer magazine, stressing the importance of clean, healthy living.

No matter where their travels took them, every summer the family would return to their private Shangri-La--the Paskowitz Surfing Camp in San Onofre. Here, they rubbed elbows with the sons and daughters of oil executives, newspaper publishers and other advantaged youths.

The studio session was to begin at 9 a.m, but no one seems to care that they were running hours behind schedule. Someone flips a lever next to an electronic keyboard. Suddenly, a piercing screech floods the room. Jonathan grabs his head, rolls on the floor and plays dead. Nearby, David munches on a bagel: “Where did you get lox like this?” he says in an exaggerated New York accent.

In a far corner, some of the brothers are trying to persuade Salvador to keep an appointment with the vice president of a major talent agency. Salvador finally relents, after arguing that he’d rather spend the day with his family.

Seeing the eight siblings gathered in one room is a little like watching eight different movies at once, all on fast-forward. The Paskowitz parents don’t attempt to track it all. They just sit back in a corner and take in the show.

To get the adrenaline pumping, as if there wasn’t already enough in the room to power a turbine, the family dims the lights and watches a videotaped interview of themselves with NBC’s Tom Brokaw in 1987. They clap loudly at a quick shot of Dorian Paskowitz showing off some fancy footwork on a surfboard while riding a giant wave.

“Hair! Hair!” the senior Paskowitz yells. “Back then I had hair.”

Next up, a grinning Juliette flashes across the screen. “Teeth, teeth,” she says, as her children burst into laughter.

Around noon, it’s finally time to begin recording. No one knows the lyrics, but somehow it doesn’t seem to matter. The family’s first recording effort is an upbeat, ‘70s-sounding pop song that brings back memories of the songs David Cassidy and the Partridge Family sang.

” . . . And I remember when my father told me, today’s your birthday son, I give you the sea,” sings David Paskowitz, sounding a little like Cassidy.

The Paskowitzes are hoping that cutting a record will be a first step toward bringing their unconventional version of the American dream to the silver screen.

In true Hollywood fashion, they’ve hired an agent to peddle their product.

“I think it is very likely that it will become part of the soundtrack to a television movie,” said Matt Weaver, who paid the $400 fee for the four-hour studio session. “I have had contacts from some agents, but we don’t have a deal with anybody yet.”

In a strange way, the Paskowitzes and Hollywood seem a perfect match.

“All our lives people have said, ‘You’re the famous Paskowitz family,’ but we were never famous. We were poor surfer boys,” says Abraham. “But one of the things that will make us famous is our love. That bond that gave us a chance to do everything we ever wanted.”