Okay its officially summer now. Here on the island the beaches are covered with seaweed and tourists and both of them are starting to stink! The weed less so. I know that's a mean thing to say and I'm probably a mean and crabby old dude for saying it but hey I kind of like being mean and crabby. I could lose the old part maybe. Then again being young in my case means being dumb and I've still got plenty of youth if you know what I mean.
There were some good waves the other day so I grabbed my boogie board and fins and caught some fairly decent waves. There really is nothing better than living by the beach. Whether I'm riding my bike, floatin on my cheapo pink inflatable raft, sponge boarding or just baking on the beach with a paperback mystery this is the life. I can't really blame the tourists for coming but they have passed the saturation level. The Seawall has ceased to function as a travel corridor. It is now a slow moving exhibit of the species homo touristas.
A number of years ago after some foreign travel I remember thinking that as a tourist I had to learn to wait in line and follow directions. I decided this was a pretty good approach to life in general. You know, that old "I'm just visiting this planet" attitude. I still feel that way. However I no longer see myself as a tourist, tourists are too disrespectful for me to continue to identify as one. I would like to see myself as some kind of naturalist. Actually that sounds just about right.
Naturalists aren't necessarily scientists but they have that sort of respect and awe that scientists have. My problem is I should probably have that sort of awe for my fellow human beings but I don't. I mean a scientist studying gorillas will spot some silver back with a huge belly gobbling termites and be dumbfounded and inspired. But when I see some hairy back tourist gobbling fried chicken... well inspired isn't the word. Some tourists are more fun to look at than others and there is nothing too scientific about figuring that out.
I am blessed to live somewhere so many people want to be, if only it weren't so easily accessible.
Russell
Sheep
Friday, June 22, 2012
Monday, June 11, 2012
I call my dad pop
My dad is fading away. It's a long slow process. I feel sorry for my dad. In some ways I guess it gives us lots of time to prepare for his death. I just wish his suffering wasn't dragging out so long. Shit! I don't want my dad to suffer at all. I refer to him as dad but to his face I am just as likely to call him Pop. I like that way of referring to my father.
Pop has a nice friendly sound to it. My dad still has some of his sense of humor. I leaned over his bed and asked him if he was giving the staff at his nursing home a hard time. In a breathless whisper he said "yeah." I said "That's good I'm glad to hear that Dad." It may not be a lot but it's a joke we can still share.
My dad and I always joked around. Sometimes we would absolutely flog a pun to death! We would totally punish it! People listening thought it was torture. They felt like victims of some punish inquisition. Once we got started we just kept on racking them up. This kind of really dumb stuff is so cool. I would love to be able to remember every single stupid joke we made.
Dad almost got in trouble with the cops once over one his jokes. Our next door neighbors were avid Democrats and the ones across the street were dedicated Republicans. One election year they got into a serious signage competition. Their front yards sprouted signs like weeds, they even had big signs on the roofs of their cars. It was crazy! So my pop decides to yank their chains. He switches all their signs! The Dem's next door were now supporting the GOP and the Republicans across the street were now supporting the Democrats! It was really funny until the lady next door had a cow and called the fuzz!
A squad car showed up and soon the cops were knocking on our door. The neighborhood kids had narced my dad out! The neighbor lady declined to press charges once she found out it was my dad that had perpetrated this heinous act, probably because they played bridge with my parents.
Dad has played lots of jokes on people. He and I played one on my little sister that sort of backfired. She wanted him to beat with stick one time, probably over being teased by me. She selected one with a nail in it! Dad talked her out of that but did find a suitable board to whack me with. He made her wait outside a closed door while he clobbered the shit out of a sofa cushion and I moaned in mock agony. Then he brought her in while I pseudo whimpered. My baby sister had a satisfied smile on her face all she said was "good." We cracked up laughing! She wasn't too disappointed.
Man I love my dad! I am going to keep making jokes with him for as long as we possibly can.
Russell
Pop has a nice friendly sound to it. My dad still has some of his sense of humor. I leaned over his bed and asked him if he was giving the staff at his nursing home a hard time. In a breathless whisper he said "yeah." I said "That's good I'm glad to hear that Dad." It may not be a lot but it's a joke we can still share.
My dad and I always joked around. Sometimes we would absolutely flog a pun to death! We would totally punish it! People listening thought it was torture. They felt like victims of some punish inquisition. Once we got started we just kept on racking them up. This kind of really dumb stuff is so cool. I would love to be able to remember every single stupid joke we made.
Dad almost got in trouble with the cops once over one his jokes. Our next door neighbors were avid Democrats and the ones across the street were dedicated Republicans. One election year they got into a serious signage competition. Their front yards sprouted signs like weeds, they even had big signs on the roofs of their cars. It was crazy! So my pop decides to yank their chains. He switches all their signs! The Dem's next door were now supporting the GOP and the Republicans across the street were now supporting the Democrats! It was really funny until the lady next door had a cow and called the fuzz!
A squad car showed up and soon the cops were knocking on our door. The neighborhood kids had narced my dad out! The neighbor lady declined to press charges once she found out it was my dad that had perpetrated this heinous act, probably because they played bridge with my parents.
Dad has played lots of jokes on people. He and I played one on my little sister that sort of backfired. She wanted him to beat with stick one time, probably over being teased by me. She selected one with a nail in it! Dad talked her out of that but did find a suitable board to whack me with. He made her wait outside a closed door while he clobbered the shit out of a sofa cushion and I moaned in mock agony. Then he brought her in while I pseudo whimpered. My baby sister had a satisfied smile on her face all she said was "good." We cracked up laughing! She wasn't too disappointed.
Man I love my dad! I am going to keep making jokes with him for as long as we possibly can.
Russell
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