Wednesday, June 28, 2006
If I Had A Boat
Had a nice little visit this evening at Teakwoods with .11 and B.O., and we downed a couple of adult beverages. Pirate Rick and His Wench are up at Lake Powell chilling out for a week. That is, if it's humanly possible to put the words "chill" and Lake Powell" together in the same sentence in late June.
I used to have a boat - a 20' pontoon Party Barge that we mostly kept up at Apache Lake. We had a great time with that floating bar, but it just got to be too much of a hassle. It was always, always, Africa freakin' hot at the lake. We'd feel guilty, like we were wasting our money, if we weren't up there every weekend floating around on the thing. But we had a great time with it, nonetheless. One day, we were cruising at "no wake" speed near the marina when we spotted a redneck couple on a raggedy ass homemade houseboat, fighting like the proverbial cat and dog. There was a lot of yelling, screaming, and arm waving, until finally the guy slapped the living shit out of her. Before you could say "wife beating asshole," the woman jumped up, grabbed a pair of real nice Tony Lamas boots sitting just inside the door, and chucked them into the lake. You would have though she just shot that guy's dog. He screamed like a scalded cat, ran to the end of the deck, and leaped into the water to save what was obviously his most prized possessions. Fortunately for him, the water was only about 4' deep at that particular spot, and he fished the soaked boots out before any serious damage was done. Unfortunately for him, the woman then fired up the engine, sailed away, and left his worthless standing there with his boots in his hands, in 4' of water, 50 yards off shore. If there's any justice, she scuttled the stupid boat and drove home, leaving him in nothing but shorts and boots to find a way home.
As the kids grew older and developed other interests, the boat spent more and more time in our driveway, wasting away without Margaritaville. Finally, a couple of thieving Gypsies showed up at my door one day wanting to buy the thing. Now, I don't generally do business with Gypsies. It's been my job the past 20 years or so to do what I can to run their asses out of town. But what the hell? They had cash, I needed the carport space, and it was easier to take their money for a change than it was to throw them out of my yard. Hell, I'd still need to sell the stupid boat. So, I let'em have it. I hope it sank on their maiden voyage.
We'll stick with the lake in our backyard for a while. I don't have to tow it, and there's no rednecks beating their wives and fishing their Tony Lamas out of it. As my big brother once counseled me:
You don't NEED a boat. You just need a friend that HAS a boat.
Hear that, .11? When we going to the lake?
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I used to have a boat - a 20' pontoon Party Barge that we mostly kept up at Apache Lake. We had a great time with that floating bar, but it just got to be too much of a hassle. It was always, always, Africa freakin' hot at the lake. We'd feel guilty, like we were wasting our money, if we weren't up there every weekend floating around on the thing. But we had a great time with it, nonetheless. One day, we were cruising at "no wake" speed near the marina when we spotted a redneck couple on a raggedy ass homemade houseboat, fighting like the proverbial cat and dog. There was a lot of yelling, screaming, and arm waving, until finally the guy slapped the living shit out of her. Before you could say "wife beating asshole," the woman jumped up, grabbed a pair of real nice Tony Lamas boots sitting just inside the door, and chucked them into the lake. You would have though she just shot that guy's dog. He screamed like a scalded cat, ran to the end of the deck, and leaped into the water to save what was obviously his most prized possessions. Fortunately for him, the water was only about 4' deep at that particular spot, and he fished the soaked boots out before any serious damage was done. Unfortunately for him, the woman then fired up the engine, sailed away, and left his worthless standing there with his boots in his hands, in 4' of water, 50 yards off shore. If there's any justice, she scuttled the stupid boat and drove home, leaving him in nothing but shorts and boots to find a way home.
As the kids grew older and developed other interests, the boat spent more and more time in our driveway, wasting away without Margaritaville. Finally, a couple of thieving Gypsies showed up at my door one day wanting to buy the thing. Now, I don't generally do business with Gypsies. It's been my job the past 20 years or so to do what I can to run their asses out of town. But what the hell? They had cash, I needed the carport space, and it was easier to take their money for a change than it was to throw them out of my yard. Hell, I'd still need to sell the stupid boat. So, I let'em have it. I hope it sank on their maiden voyage.
We'll stick with the lake in our backyard for a while. I don't have to tow it, and there's no rednecks beating their wives and fishing their Tony Lamas out of it. As my big brother once counseled me:
You don't NEED a boat. You just need a friend that HAS a boat.
Hear that, .11? When we going to the lake?
