Last weekend, dear friends DMO visited me in Cupertino. At first, the timing of the visit sounded great. Weather would be nice for sailing, I would need to get in some more practice massages for the end of this class, everything would be groovy.<\/p>\n
But then the date got closer and closer, and the timing started to look worse and worse. Work was at a fever pitch with lots of late night and weekend work. The marina was closed the weekend of the visit. Things just weren’t lining up. But oh well, there was no way to change the dates and so, we’ll just make the best of it.<\/p>\n
So, I worked a bunch and when I wasn’t working I spent time with them. At one point, M asked “So, do you spend your entire life just rushing from one thing to another?” Heh, no, only when things are just bug-fuck busy. I whined about the marina being closed and the dock master offered to let us sail on Monday. Yay! As bad as work was, I would move heaven and earth to take the afternoon off and take them sailing. D used to have a sailboat and has been jonesin’ for a sail for a long time now, so I knew he was especially eager. The only challenge was O. He’s a nine-year-old boy, capable of being fairly demanding, and not particularly open to new experience. But, I tried to stay open-minded. I did, really. About the only constraint I laid down was that I didn’t want to only have one adult with O. If I was at the tiller, I needed one assistant, and then one other adult to ride herd on O. Deep in my heart, I was hoping the decision would be made to leave him at home; we had a couple of different scenarios for that. But no, D & M decided to bring him along. Ooookay.<\/p>\n
So, I come racing home from work at noon. We load into the car and drive ~40 minutes over the hill to Santa Cruz. We spend 15 minutes rigging the boat and 20 minutes sailing out of the harbor.<\/p>\n
When we came out of the harbor mouth onto the bay, it was clear this was going to be great<\/b> sailing conditions. Winds at about 15 knots and steady, some waves but no hard chop, 75 degrees, sunny… just gorgeous. The wind was some of the best I’ve had on the bay. Harbor seals were playing all around us. I started heading straight south out to the mile marker.<\/p>\n
And almost immediately, O started wailing. The boat leans! The waves move! I hate boats! I hate water! Turn around! Go back! Aiiieee! I gritted my teeth and waited to see how D & M would handle it. For about three minutes no one said anything and we just listened to the growing volume of crying and wailing. Then D started trying to rationalize with O. Yes, rationalize with a crying child. Good plan. So, after five minutes on the bay, we turn around and head back to the harbor. No, doing a jibe in a hard wind didn’t make him cry more, why do you ask?<\/p>\n
So, back into the harbor, drifting to the dock in stoney silence, 20 minutes. Of course, as we’re drifting back in, the dock master came by in the whaling boat, filled with kids from his sailing class. I ask him what is the age range of the class. Eight- and nine-year-olds.<\/p>\n
Another 15 minutes to pack up the boat, 40 minutes to drive back over the hill. Wherein I went right back into work, cursing and grinding my teeth.<\/p>\n
You know how things have different names when you’re on a boat? Ropes are called lines, the bathroom is a head, the kitchen is a galley. You know what kids are called on a boat? Anchors.<\/p>\n
So, frustrated at O, and irritated with D & M for talking him into something they should have known better about. And peeved with myself for not putting my foot down and insisting on a plan for success. Oh well. I’m over it now. No, really, I am.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
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