Friday, September 19, 2014 Vero Beach, FL I’ve talked with a lot of people about Face Book and several of them have expressed opinions ranging from mild apprehension to making a sign to ward off the evil eye. On the other hand there are many, like myself, who derive significant benefit from participating in this grand social media experiment. To illustrate the reason I like face Book allow me to share with you a recent incident I received a request, via Face Book Messenger, from the mother of one of my former clients who asked me to review a book she had written about her experience coping with her child’s difficulties. She had been following my escapades on Face Book for some time and felt comfortable soliciting my input. I, on the other hand, felt humbled to even be considered for something like this. I agreed to take a look and spent part of the evening and much of the following morning pursuing the manuscript which she had emailed me. Several times, while reading, I had to stop, remove my glasses and knuckle tears from my eyes. This was some poignant stuff she was writing about. Why did she feel like she could ask for my input? I had only met her, briefly, twice before, so it was not like we had a long standing acquaintance that she could draw from. Nor had we corresponded in any noteworthy manner which might have prompted this level of trust. Aside from the fact that I was the administrator of the program where her child had received treatment, the only significant source of insight into my heart came from what I’ve posted on Face Book over the past year or so. At any rate I sent her my critique of the manuscript and she in turn asked me if I’d be willing to write something for the front of the book. I feel more than honored to do so. My point in all this is to say, while there may be some cautions that need to be considered when using social media, the positive aspects of enhanced connection between people far ought weigh any negatives. Good news, bad news. I went up to pay for my boat slip rental and was told I didn’t have to leave in October. That’s the good news. I was also told that they had miscalculated my docking fees and they would be going up ninety five bucks a month. I may move out to a mooring buoy or anchor out once the weather cools and I no longer feel the need for air conditioning. I’ll make that decision once I return from my trip to Texas. I’d save a lot by anchoring and the dinghy ride into the docks wouldn’t be much farther than the one I had in Boot Key. If I take a mooring buoy I’d most likely have to share it with other boats, which might not be so bad, but then again it might be just the opposite. Yesterday morning, after my shower, I’d thought to head into town to have breakfast and visit the Fresh Market. As I was walking up, Jim, a former Marine, greeted me and offered a ride into town. Taking him up on the offer I climbed in his battered old station wagon filled to the overhead with air tanks, dive gear, plumbing materials, etc. Jim is one of those colorful individuals whose doppelgangers can be found in most cruising communities, tolerably odd, harmlessly eccentric, and always an opportunity for me to do a bit of soul searching as my judgments and prejudices manifest themselves. Jim dropped me off at the Southern Comfort Grill where I planned on having breakfast and he declined to accompany me as he had another appointment to keep. Inside I took a seat and ordered two poached eggs, a couple of slices of bacon, and a stack of dollar pancakes. It didn’t take long to finish off the meal so I paid my bill and walked over to the market. Fresh Market is like a smaller, less organic, version of Whole Foods. I picked out a loaf of crusty multi grain bread, a round of smoked cheese, and some Japanese rice snacks to munch on. Fresh Market has premium selections, however the prices are higher than I’m willing to pay for the more mundane purchases that I’m accustom to make so I headed across the street to Publix to get milk, cereal, and beverages. I hurriedly collected those things up, checked out, and quick walked back to the bus stop arriving just in time to board the #1 back to the marina. With my purchases stowed I tore off a chunk of the crusty bread and sliced a wedge from the round of cheese for lunch. Of course, following lunch I felt the need to take a nap so I ducked into the aft cabin and as I curled up was joined by my cat Gandalf. Sometime later I woke up and read some on my Kindle until Gandalf started pestering me to fill his water bowl. Gandalf is a comfort to have around. He greets me when I return after short absences as if I’d been gone for a month. Wherever I’m at on the boat he is right there with me, even on those late night trips to the head. Sure, he gets into stuff he shouldn’t, gets on counters knowing I’m going to yell at him, and will deliberately knock things, like books, onto the deck just to get my attention. For instance, he’ll meow and put a paw on my arm or leg. Then, if I don’t respond in the approved manner he’ll start pushing things towards the edge of the table, a letter or a pen or even the case for my glasses. Then he will stop; give me a look and an expectant meow. I’ll growl at him saying something like, “Don’t even think about it fur ball.” If I pet him he’ll desist, and if I don’t onto the deck something will go. If I ignore his actions in an effort not to reward his attention seeking behavior, some more stuff will clatter to the deck. He has even gone so far as to knock the basket of change I keep on a shelf over and then started scattering the coins around with his paws. Damned cat. It was getting on towards 1600 so I pocketed a cigar and headed over to the office to check the mail. As I cut through the hedge that separates A-Dock from the Yacht Club I heard the sweet sounds of a bagpipe playing. Much to my surprise there was a piper in full regalia marching about the empty parking lot. He saluted me and I gave him double thumbs up. I’m guessing that there was something going on at the yacht club later that evening, and that the piper was part of that. For my part I watched and listened for a while before continuing on. There is something about the sound of bagpipe music that always brings out deep emotions in me. I’m not sure why, as my ancestors are Welch, but pipe music will start me crying or make me feel like grabbing my sword and painting my face blue all the while shouting, Wallace, Wallace!! I didn’t have any mail, so I strolled over to the lounge where the usual suspects were gathered. We hung out for a couple of hours cracking jokes and discussing various boating issues. The conversation is hardly the type which would be welcome in so called polite society; however there is an element of camaraderie that is deep and supportive. Sure, they make fun of me because my hand shakes, but if I need help I know I can call on any of them for assistance. “Hey Shaky, you need a hand with that?” This is Captain John aboard Kittiwake thanking you for joining me.
Posted on: Fri, 19 Sep 2014 21:26:22 +0000
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