A Mothers Day Shopping Trip spills into August.

Parts One, Two, Three, four, five  and Six are here, please have a look,

All around us the men moved with a terrible purpose. The floor had gone from dingy gray concrete to planks, laid at right angles to the walls. And the walls were slowly sinking, and curving, and had taken on a stark brown appearance, with eye bolts sticking up at regular intervals. But, they weren't really bolts, they were pins, driven into the top of the wall. 

Motion, movement, and deliberate confusion were all around us. Men moved, shuffled past our cart without even seeing us. There was a sense of urgency, despite the slow, deliberate ballet unfolding in front of our eyes, you could sense the menace, the terrible importance of each small movement.

Fog was drifting from right to left, wispy clouds floating like small ghosts in front of us, around us. They seemed to avoid getting too close, swerving around the spot where we stood, and then converging on the other side. 

Rays of sunlight began to break through, and the scene was unreal. A ship, shiny with varnish, buckled and rolled. Masts high with sails, ropes wound and hanging from everywhere, grates to the holds below., and stairs leading to an elevated deck in front of us. We were sprayed by briny, cool water that crashed into the side of the "boat."

Somewhere behind us a song broke out, a melancholy song of love, loss, and sorrow. Soon men all around us joined in haunting, chilling, heartbreaking harmony. A tear ran down my cheek, even though I could only understand part of what was being said. Much of it seemed to be in an ancient, dead language, that I, somehow, began to decipher, decode. A dark, long lost language only sailors, and kayakers would understand.

My wife pulled out her phone and said, "this is crazy, I am giving them a bad review on Yelp." 

Everything stopped. Men turned to look at us. One of them grabbed a deck chair from behind a large round vent that led to the bottom off the ship.

Another came rushing over with a frosty drink, topped by a toothpick holding several slices of fruit. A band started playing calypso music. Soon, we were sitting in chairs, under huge umbrellas, being fanned by a couple of men dressed in white shorts and t-shirts that had tuxedos printed on them.

My wife looked over her huge sunglasses at me and said, "you have to love Yelp."

"Yes, you do." I said. 

to be continued.

Mothers Day shopping, almost Labor day, I wish

Parts One, Two, Three, four and five are here, please have a look,

Almost unnoticeable in the mists and breeze stood the entrance to the aisle where the lattice work and fence sections were shelved. The floor was definitely starting to roll under our feet now. We had the cart, the orange, unwieldy shopping cart, emblazoned with the Home Depot logo to hang onto.

Unsteadily we made our way down the narrow path. Wooden casks stood, strapped to pallets in the middle of the aisle, and down the right side crates, nailed tight, stood, lonely in the dim light. Men came, men wearing grey clothes, rambling slowly, steadily there movements timed exquisitely with the movement of the floor, and picked up a crate. Turning slowly they carried the crate to the swinging doors in the back of the store.

"Hey, let's ask them where the lattice is." My wife suggested, smiling politely, as if we were bathed in the light and crowds of the mall, looking for a cinnamon roll, or iced tea. Not stuck in the netherlands of Home Depot on a holiday weekend.

"OK." I said, she had made up her mind, the course was set and we had full sail, there was no turning back now. Besides, there might be some light on the dock. This gloomy, misty, damp fog was starting to have a negative effect on me.

Unfortunately, the dock was just as dreary, and crowded. Men, shabby clothes, stringy hair, gaunt, bony, matted beards, rags wrapped around their heads, moved slowly around the area. Moved past us as if we did not exist. One of them had a wooden hammer, rounded and worn.

At the ringing of a great bell, a bell that shook the walls, rattled our bones, he slammed a pin that held a wheel, it spun slowly, gaining speed, pulling a chain through a hole in the floor. It stopped with a crash, and a voice screamed "Raise the main sail."

It echoed around the room, and with a great sigh the room, and several adjoining areas, including the employee break room and the public rest rooms broke free from the building. We were adrift, I could hear a lighthouse bell in the distance. All around us the men moved with a purpose, in and out of the mist, and fog.

I looked at my wife, and said, "I told you we should leave."

"Without the lattice for the cucumber?" Her voice was filled with an outraged shock. Her disbelief was profound.

"Man the starboard cannons. We are sailing to send Lowes to the bottom of the sea." A voice, deep, resonant, steeped with the weight of command, an ancient voice from a forgotten past echoed around the "ship."

Permission to Come Aboard?

Anybody who knows me will tell you I am not overly fond of water. Sure, I love a bottle of water, and a shower can be almost godly, and I can even live with a quick lap around the swimming pool, but rivers are a problem. Lakes are anathema. Great Lakes are the gateway to the afterlife. Any body of water big enough to become a graveyard of shipwrecks is just too big, too worrisome, too dangerous to toy with.

Yet, here we were, kayaking on the lake that "never gives up it's dead." Cruising along as if we were safe.  And we were, the water was so calm, and clear, and perfect. You would just paddle along, look down and think "I could just reach down and pick up that rock." But you can't touch the bottom with the paddle, a two sided kayak paddle. So you look at the shore and it is heck and gone away, so you paddle madly, furiously, with a fight or flee energy that saved your primitive distant ancestors. 

Yesterday I decided to throw caution to the wind and get on a boat, a boat with a glass bottom, and go look at shipwrecks. Taking a boat to look at pieces of boats scattered across the bottom of the lake, madness, I know. There is no explanation. Temporary insanity is my guess. On the plus side I made the reservations online so I could obsess, fret and worry about that not working. There was no time to worry about climbing aboard a floating coffin and cruising through a graveyard..

 

However, we walked down the pier, clambered aboard the boat, and set sail. Good Captain Kate at the wheel. "Please note the location of the life jackets, under the seats on the upper deck, port, and starboard sides." She said over the PA.

I noted the locations and they were both seats, with people sitting on them. A rough calculation proved fruitless. Both seats were occupied by women roughly the same size, either would be equally easy to throw overboard in a mad dash to save myself if things got ugly. It came down to age, the woman on the starboard side (I think) looked older, less inclined to self defense. However the one on the port side, (the other side) was closer, and had a much smaller purse, actually it was more of a handbag, even just a large clutch, so it was safe to assume she was not packing heat. However she was with a man, maybe her husband and the woman across on the Starboard side (the side over there) was with another woman, possibly a sister (a female sibling, not a nun).

At this point it was a toss up. Starboard (one side) or port (the other)? The only way to decide was to ask each woman her age, weight and body mass index which would provide some insight into her general level of fitness. Big mistake. After a brief, but surprisingly venomous, profanity laden tirade from both women, the women next to them and my wife I decided it would be safer to drown.

I am happy to report there was no drowning, after a while people quit glaring at me. The boat ride was a smashing success, the shipwrecks were easy to see and haunting to look at. I only panicked briefly. Soon I was walking the length of the boat, and we even sat on the front seats (bow?) and enjoyed my time on the water. A real salt, me hearty.

Now Hiring, Pharmaceutical Geniuses.

We, here at the Ohio Division of Life Explained (ODLE), have decided to branch out a little. No worries, we are still going to provide the governments of the world with the finest detonatable and incendiary technology possible. But, the potential profit in pharmaceutical development and sales is almost impossible to resist.

Seriously, it is like a siren's song calling us to the rocky, dangerous shores of the island Wealth. Where there are enormous piles of money waiting for anybody who can navigate the treacherous waters of government interference and obstruction. Who knows better the safe streams and canals of congressional bribery* than the intrepid sailors of the Life Explained Legal Department.**

We are still trying to decide on the type of medicine we are going to start developing first, maybe something that will help people who are allergic to sodium and have heartburn. Start small, you know. Maybe something that helps people who are sensitive to bright lights, and still want to be famous. The possibilities are endless, and the earnings gigantic. We like the sound of that.

Please join us in our quest to make life better and get filthy rich, send your resume to;

Life Explained Pharmaceutical Division
Are there holes in your life that you're trying to fill
Because if you have a problem, boy, we have a pill***

* Just kidding, I am sure the good people in the government are all trying their hardest to keep us safe. If they make a little cash who can blame them, hey we all have to eat, right?

** Sorry, I am still excited by my new Kayak (name pending) and am trying to work in nautical references whenever possible, matey.

*** Thank you, Micheal Stanley Band. You could really rock and roll.

Today in History, a List

It is time to look at the day ahead. The best way to do that is to look back. So on this day in history;

Today was the first of the televised Kennedy vs. Nixon debates. Kennedy was declared the winner by technical knock out. Many people felt Kennedy was much more comfortable in front of the camera, and was willing to wear makeup, while Nixon was a little pasty, sweaty and a lot like most Americans would be in front of a national televised audience. Proving that we don't want somebody like a normal American to be in charge, substance is secondary to appearance, and there is no point in saying anything profound unless you do it attractively.*

Francis Drake returns to England after sailing around the world, officially "circumnavigating the globe." He was the first British navigator to sail the globe. He set off on December 13th, 1577 with five ships, officially he was going to raid Spanish holdings in the new world, but a series of storms made a mess of things, and he wound up in San Francisco Bay and claimed the territory property of the Queen. The Forty Niners, and the Giants were furious, fearing that they were going to have to learn soccer (football, to Drake). But, the games were allowed to continue, and everybody was happy, even the Queen.** 

The Bill of Rights was ratified by the First Congress, and sent to the states for approval which is important, too.

The Brady Bunch premiered on television which is not important.

The first American soldier was killed in Vietnam, in 1945, that really surprised me.

A lot of other things happened, too, but this is enough for one post. Besides, I need more coffee.

*Here, I should add the disclaimer, I am a liberal democrat, not because I trust democrats any more than I trust republicans, only because I like the sound of being liberal more than conservative. And image is everything.

**I should mention that sailing is often called the "worst way to travel that doesn't use an airplane." At least on this blog.