Lightning DOES Strike Twice

History almost repeated itself, but thankfully, this time there was a happy ending. Conditions were almost the same, except that it was actually windier than when Safari took her final journey. The difference to Phoenix living to tell her tale was that she miraculously avoided all the rocks on her trip to the beach. Soft sand is no match for a tough boat.

The owner attests that it's much better to wear yourself out scrubbing the exposed hull at low tide, and then, on the evening's high tide, cranking on lines and anchors to haul the boat back into deeper water, than it is to chop up your beloved vessel with a chainsaw.

And also, that boat is getting chained to her mooring. No more beach parties.

Farewell Old Friends

I had the most delicious dream last night. I was aboard my anchored boat, and through an open porthole, could see my love’s gray steel boat anchored right next to mine. In the dream, each morning I awoke, day after day, and there he was, still beside me. Plus, my boat had a brand new engine in it!

When I started to awaken into the real world this morning, I fought to stay asleep to keep the dream alive. But alas, daylight reality entered, and I had to admit that dream was blown long ago.

But dreams do have meaning.

I purchased my last pair of sandals in 2007 at a Key West dive shop, while my love browsed the spear gun selection. Could that have been a hint of foreshadowing, a sign of what was to come not long after, when our relationship took a dive and I fled?

I wish he had harpooned me and reeled me back in.

Regardless, those aged, well worn sandals should never have been in this summer’s wardrobe. But there they were, in all their holey bottomed, strap failing glory, because I had been unable to locate any suitable replacements. Until today, when simply passing a storefront window, there were exactly the sandals I’d been waiting for all summer.

I just hope that pitching the old sandals into the rubbish bin and getting new ones has no meaning whatsoever.

How Safe Is Your Car?

That depends on how you drive it. If you believe that you have one of those magic cars that will glide smoothly across ice all by itself at 70 mph, here’s a tip: your car is not safe.

If you’re driving on a jam packed three lane highway where everyone else is going 40, odds are, that if you believe you can continue to travel at 90 by zipping in and out of traffic, your car is not safe.

If your mechanic told you a year ago, when you last got your oil changed, that you needed new brakes, your car is probably not safe. Especially if you have to start slowing down a quarter mile away from a stop sign in order not to skid through it.

If you stole your car, it’s probably not safe.

If your car doors lock automatically when you accelerate over 25, and then you drive into a lake causing all the electronics fail, your car is probably not safe.

If you’ve aged past the ability to merge into traffic from an on ramp, your car is probably not safe.

If you leave the keys in the ignition and the doors unlocked while parked in front of a Bronx mini mart, your car is probably not safe.

If you pass a cop who’s going the speed limit, your car is probably not safe.

If one of your wheels just flew past you on the highway, your car is not safe.

If you own a Yugo…well nevermind, if you own a Yugo you don’t really own a car.

If you bought the biggest, honkenest, most expensive gas guzzling SUV that you could never afford, and then got laid off, your car is probably not safe. (BTW: driving a hummer is the same as wearing a sticker that says ‘look at me I am a giant weenie’-which we all know means that it’s actually very tiny.)

And because I just said that to all the hummer owners out there, my car is not safe.