I’ve said it once, and I’ll say it, no doubt, until I’m forcibly restrained, but looks like we’ve made it through another work week.
As on previous Fridays, I’ll be divining the overall tone of my upcoming weekend by the songs on my iPod during the morning’s commute.
One Man Guy by Rufus Wainwright
Catch All This by Del the Funky Homosapien
Move Over by Janis Joplin
Conventional Wisdom by Built to Spill
This is Radio Clash by The Clash
Believe Me, Baby by James Hunter
What’s it all mean? Near as I can tell, Fall is coming. Everything’s looking rather thoughtful, don’t you think?
And thank heavens I wrote today's post last night, before I realized I was to spend more time thinking…
You may not know it to look at me, but I’ve spent very little time in the ocean.
What would give this away, you say? Oh, I don’t know. My skin's hue, the color of mashed potatoes (without the peelings) would probably be the stand-out indication. I may be wrong about this – I am, after all, from a landlocked state – but I equate the ocean with sun, with wind, with laughing and splashing and the formation of new freckles.
What I had not associated it, surprisingly enough, was fish.
Yes, yes, yes, everyone have a good laugh now. Get it out of your systems.
Now, I’ve known, since the year that Jaws came out and my brother and I paid for and saw this movie 7 times over the course of a weekend, that there are large, carnivorous things in the ocean.
I just never thought I’d see one.
And I still haven’t. But you wouldn’t have known that by my reaction Monday.
Monday I went swimming off Bradenton Beach, an island ostensibly governed by the State of Florida. Those living on this island may argue with you about that – they have a lot of strange ideas down there – but take my word for it: Florida – and all its bits – are part of the U.S. of A.
So there I am, standing in water up to my armpits, staring out toward open water, thinking about the time my brother Kevin chased me down the beach at Lake Superior holding the remains of what may have been, at one time, a very, very large muskellunge, when some thing slams into my lower legs.
I am not a dignified person. I found this out on Monday.
“Ack! Ack! Fish! Fish! Big fish in the water! Ack! Ack!”
Oh, it’s all very funny, isn’t it? Laughing at the tourist? Watching her graceless and hasty departure from the ocean?
I like to pretend now that it was all to get a laugh out of T.
And laugh he did, on and off, until my plane departed the next day.
Who ya gonna laugh at now, T?!
Bettered by Feathers
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