Bate's beach bachelor party
The noise of weed wackers, blowers and lawn mowers provided the initial wake up this morning. I tried my best to squeeze out some more sleep but the relentless onslaught on my sense of hearing overcame my will. I was out of bed at 9 AM, whether I liked it or not.
Before yoga, before a shower, but not before I brushed my teeth, I drove El Diablo (the huge bad ass, dual rear wheels, black, Silvaradoe truck) to Smog Plus in Meiner's Oaks for some much needed repairs. The truck is long and the trailer is longer. I managed to arrive unscathed. Immediately, Sammy is there to greet me. We talk, I explain what needs to be done, yada yada.
Sammy: "I only like dealing with one person."
I agree, thinking that it will be no problemo for me to pick up the truck and trailer at 5 PM and drop off the c note and a half. Well, of course, more important events overlap and it becomes quite difficult to pick up the pick up at the scheduled time. Sammy gives me a call around 4:30 PM. I explain that it will be difficult to get the truck. Sammy starts to mini freak, I try to expain, "I'll get the truck tomorrow morning."
Sammy: "I cannot be responsible, somebody will steal your trailer-"
"Sammy, I will not hold you responsible. I don't think there is any risk, this aint Lebanon."
Here's the deal. I have been picking up the various goods for the Billy Mo "conscious bachelor party" - taking place tonight at Bates Beach. I figure, grab the truck/trailer tomorrow, no biggie. Unexpectedly, Sammy has major problems. He's dead set against leaving the trailer/truck over night.
In the end, I had Dev call him and smooth it over.
Finally, we head out to Bate's Beach. When Bill pulls up and parks, we learn that the margarita mix has spilled. There will be no margaritas tonight. We have beer and wine though.
The party proceeds along. Bill swims out just beyond where the waves are breaking. Devin and his yellow Labrador retriever join him. George, Richard and Gates throw the Frisbee around. George dives into the water several times to make the catch, disappearing, then rising, Frisbee firmly clutched in hand, water pouring off his beard, smile beaming.
As the light dimmed and the horizon erased the sun, Skip and Steve built a fire. Soon enough we are all circled around, talking, laughing joking. Skip is creating a temporary kiva, using the various pieces of driftwood and arunda to sketch out a wall, boundary -the next step past a sand castle.
The roar of crashing waves and the heat of the fire provide a sensory backdrop as we discuss the hardcore issues that prey on our minds. Bill plays the guitar and lays his sonic soul bare. The darkness holds the sky but we keep it at bay, feeding the fire, feeding our minds with the chatter, camaraderie and love.
Before yoga, before a shower, but not before I brushed my teeth, I drove El Diablo (the huge bad ass, dual rear wheels, black, Silvaradoe truck) to Smog Plus in Meiner's Oaks for some much needed repairs. The truck is long and the trailer is longer. I managed to arrive unscathed. Immediately, Sammy is there to greet me. We talk, I explain what needs to be done, yada yada.
Sammy: "I only like dealing with one person."
I agree, thinking that it will be no problemo for me to pick up the truck and trailer at 5 PM and drop off the c note and a half. Well, of course, more important events overlap and it becomes quite difficult to pick up the pick up at the scheduled time. Sammy gives me a call around 4:30 PM. I explain that it will be difficult to get the truck. Sammy starts to mini freak, I try to expain, "I'll get the truck tomorrow morning."
Sammy: "I cannot be responsible, somebody will steal your trailer-"
"Sammy, I will not hold you responsible. I don't think there is any risk, this aint Lebanon."
Here's the deal. I have been picking up the various goods for the Billy Mo "conscious bachelor party" - taking place tonight at Bates Beach. I figure, grab the truck/trailer tomorrow, no biggie. Unexpectedly, Sammy has major problems. He's dead set against leaving the trailer/truck over night.
In the end, I had Dev call him and smooth it over.
Finally, we head out to Bate's Beach. When Bill pulls up and parks, we learn that the margarita mix has spilled. There will be no margaritas tonight. We have beer and wine though.
The party proceeds along. Bill swims out just beyond where the waves are breaking. Devin and his yellow Labrador retriever join him. George, Richard and Gates throw the Frisbee around. George dives into the water several times to make the catch, disappearing, then rising, Frisbee firmly clutched in hand, water pouring off his beard, smile beaming.
As the light dimmed and the horizon erased the sun, Skip and Steve built a fire. Soon enough we are all circled around, talking, laughing joking. Skip is creating a temporary kiva, using the various pieces of driftwood and arunda to sketch out a wall, boundary -the next step past a sand castle.
The roar of crashing waves and the heat of the fire provide a sensory backdrop as we discuss the hardcore issues that prey on our minds. Bill plays the guitar and lays his sonic soul bare. The darkness holds the sky but we keep it at bay, feeding the fire, feeding our minds with the chatter, camaraderie and love.
posted by Dij at 11:52 PM
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