Whatever floats your boat


I hope this column reaches your eyes, but it might burn up in transit to your mailbox from this lovely 90-degree weather we’ve been having. I jest of course but, honestly, what a hot weekend. Like a lot of folks out here, I spent the weekend taking care of things as quickly as possible before running to the water for some relief. My garden hose was a treasured friend as I finished mowing the yard—the chickens thought so too, gathering around me as I filled their water reservoir. I even stopped over at Amanda Reed’s home for a visit. Apparently, Reed, the graphic designer for TRR, had been enjoying the pool most of the day and, when I left, went right back to it.

Yes indeed, water seemed to be the theme of the weekend, and I finally got the dose of it I needed on Sunday. My dad brought the boat up to Duck Harbor, and my sister and her new husband were back from their honeymoon. Along for the ride as well were a few cousins from Florida, just itching for some aquatic punishment. Don’t worry, I’ll explain that in a moment.

Of course, my wife and son were there but opted for a shady picnic on shore, while the rest of us went water skiing and tubing. Rorick, my son, did eventually dangle his feet in the water with a little assistance from yours truly. I’d like to think he enjoyed the water—Lord knows he makes a waterpark out of the bathtub.

So anyway, there we were out on the water, taking turns “getting drug around the lake,” as my dad is fond of saying. I knew too well what my dad does to people who are foolish enough to choose the inner tube, so I chose the skis. I got my lap or two in and that was good for me. My cousins, however, did not have that valuable knowledge and each decided they were tough enough to take on the tube. Here’s that aquatic punishment I was talking about…

By the time you all are reading this, I’m quite sure they will be walking stiffly. My father, bless his heart, takes a sick personal pride in throwing people from the inner tube. You may be thinking to yourself, “How hard can it be to hang on?” Trust me, he’s been practicing for years. He makes the mechanical bull ride look like a nickel ride at Kmart. If that wasn’t clear enough, you know when you skip a smooth flat rock across water? Now imagine your hand is the tube, and the stone is a human being flung at high velocity across the surface of the lake. Needless to say, my dad put another two notches in his belt for my two cousins, who did not manage to hang on. They shouldn’t feel bad of course; it’s not exactly fair when the tube is flying like a kite behind the boat.

Punishment or not, it was a great day with family to enjoy the outdoors. The way out here is sometimes round in circles on a lake, but it beats sitting at home with sweat pouring off of you. And if anyone sees my cousins, just understand, it’s not sunburn, its skid marks from good wholesome family fun.

Enjoy the sunshine while it lasts folks, and always know where the nearest public lake is in case of another scorcher.


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