Ultra-laid back musician Jack Johnson is the singing, surfing opposite of the Buckingham Palace guards that stand sentry under those black oversized Q-tip hats.

Each, however elicits the same response from a passer-by: Stand in front of them, curse, make faces, impolite hand gestures and foul noises — and still they'll never break.

I get the feeling that if one dared to kick Johnson in his cargo pant-covered knee or stomp on his Birkenstock-covered foot about all you'd hear in return is a breezy, "Dude, go easy bro."

Johnson possesses the sing-songwriting chops of Ben Harper combined with the grooviness of Dave Matthews all sprinkled with a heavy dose of "Kumbaya: The Earth and its people are one," beach-speak.

He rides the same path and surfs the same swells as Patrick Swayze's cult character, Bodhi, in Point Break ... at least before Bodhi became a murdering bank robber.

A major moral quandary for this poster-child for health is whether to have alfalfa sprouts on top of his soy burger because each sprout is a life with feelings.

Born on Oahu, Johnson was actually discovered by Philadelphia urban blues artists G. Love (whose band Special Sauce will be opening for Johnson at the Cynthia Woods Mitchell Pavilion Wednesday night). It was (no surprise) that Ben Harper's producer helped Johnson assemble his debut album, Bushfire Fairytales in 2001.

All four of Johnson's ensuing albums reached at least No. 3 on the Billboard 200 charts and his last two — 2008's Sleep Through The Static and this year's To The Sea — were both chart-toppers.

Johnson draws on the soft winds of summer like Bjork draws on weird metaphorical non-sequiturs.

His concerts are acoustic serenades that are built to be heard around romantic sunset campfires on the beach which should make this night in The Woodlands a couple's delight.

(Guys, if you can't "seal the deal" after taking your beloved to this show, you need to up your game.)

Jack Johnson, 7 p.m. Wednesday at Cynthia Woods Mitchell Pavilion

Tickets: $35-$55