Sunday, August 23, 2009

And we all float on -- swallowed in the sea

(I'm not sure which song reference I prefer more. Golden nerd!pentagrams for those who guess the two bands.)

I've made it out to three of the four past high tides at Prescott Park; I love that first momentary glance at the raised sea waters, one's body saying, "Wait, wait a second. Should I go into fight or flight before I drown? Oh no, I'm ok."

I got down by the dock, where there was only one boat - I had walked to the park just after the noontime rains had abated - and was sorely tempted to go dip my feet in the ocean waters. But I don't know what proper etiquette there is. Are only boat owners and their guests allowed past the dockmaster when s/he's on duty? Because I may or may not have (depending on the answer to the previous question) walked down the gangplank last night, when there was no master on duty (the gate was open...)

I chose not to. I got to thinking about being a boat owner, though, so that I could pay the fee and chill out on the waters. I believe one can possess alcohol on one's boat, as well, as long as one does not drink and drive. How nice it might be: sit out on one's own property, rocked by Our Lord Who Art in Water (riffing off of Steinbeck), listening to the concert in the park. What kind of boat might I be able to purchase?

Obviously there are a host of obstacles between me and purchasing my first nautical vehicle. The cheapest and coolest solution my mind threw forward, however, still has me laughing twelve hours later. A one-panel cartoon: me, standing before the dockmaster, money in my hand and an alligator floating device around my waist, saying: "But, sir, this is my boat!"

I would have included that actual cartoon if I could have drawn it. (Believe me. I tried.)

I walked further on and, beyond the first pier, where the monument to urban sunsets stands, I decided that I wanted to put my feet in the ocean, and I was going to. I piled my shoes and socks with my bag, at the entrance to that second pier. A little girl stood in Crocs at the water's edge, her father urging her to come back to get lunch and then go swim at home. I walked down the rocks, across the small sandbar, scaring, unintentionally, the little girl, and waded into the water.

The girl ran back to her father. I watched her, and caught a bemused glance towards me from one of two women out on a stroll. I looked out at the shipyard. The sun warmed my back. A couple necked out on the pier. The seagulls seemed oddly regal amidst their addle-brained pigeon peers.

A very long-winded explanation of a brief episode in my life; a very abnormal image, a small wonder the two women stared. I don't care. I've made it into a symbol of that sentiment I so often reiterate at work: "Whatevah. I do what I want."

2 comments:

Shelley said...

modest mouse & coldplay?

Andrew said...

Damn, I made that too easy; the nerd challenges will become harder and harder.