the seventh of August, 2007 07 August, 2007

“He blamed it on the light wind… I agreed with him. But, I knew it wasn’t the light wind,” my father recounted as he described the last time he went sailing with his neighbor. He was explaining how the fellow sailor was getting older, and his mind was slowing down. Apparently he wasn’t coordinated with how he was navigating while at the helm of the boat. He finally offered my father the wheel, an offer that was eagerly accepted, and gave the excuse about the wind. I want to go sailing again soon. I miss it.

My father was speaking from the shotgun seat. My brother was driving his new, bright, gold Volvo with big rims, and I was sitting in the backseat next to the cat we just adopted from the Anne Arundel County shelter. We were returning home after picking out Cabernet, the newest addition to my Dad’s house in Annapolis. My away message for the afternoon read “Out trying to find some pussy with my father and bro… we’re getting a cat”.

My brother is back from spending nearly a month in Bavaria, Germany – good beer there. He is learning German. By the time he starts college, he’ll almost certainly be fluent. He wants to be an F1 auto racer, and knowing German would definitely not hurt.

My brother and I are spending a few days on the Bay with our father. I haven’t been down in way too long.