The Boost Up

Please stop over and wish Pia a happy bloggiversary. I'm checking with Miss Manners right now to see what the appropriate gift is for the 3rd bloggiversary.

Summer has been forcing my hand lately, off the track and into the water. I only went running two nights last week, and spent most of the weekend not very far from the cool relief of H2O. I never remember us having this many 100+ degree days in one year.

I went swimming at my sister's this afternoon. While that was mostly uneventful, there was one noteworthy event. We were floating around and out of the blue she asked, "Do you ever watch Scott Baio Is 45 & Single?"

Sigh. What a proud moment in the life of a big brother. I'm not ashamed to admit I nearly became emotional. Just thinking for all the mistakes I've made, I must have done something right, you know? *sniff*

Saturday, Little Joe and I spent all day at my friend Jamie's house on the lake. Ten hours of swimming, boating, eating, reapplying sunscreen, repeat.

Also, I encountered a girl there who said she'd met me previously, though I have no recollection of such a meeting. And I mean, really, what are the chances I wouldn't remember meeting a girl?

Several of us went out to eat that evening at Mister Bean's Barbecue, owned by professional boxer Butterbean. He was there so we got to meet him. Normally I'm not a fan of people named after vegetables, i.e. Carrot Top, but Mister Bean seemed like a really nice guy.

Coincidentally, we'd been talking earlier in the day about the most famous person we'd ever met. Jamie's was Jimmy Carter, LJ settled on Jose Canseco, and mine was Faith Hill. I feel safe in saying none of those rankings changed after our visit to Mister Bean's.

After supper, we came back and swam a bit more. That's when the idea of jumping off the roof of Jamie's dock crossed my mind. I asked her if anyone had ever done that. She said a couple of people had, but that it was a bit tricky getting up there. You either had to stand on the railing of the pier and pull yourself up, or climb up the ladder of the slide and step across about a four-foot gap to the roof. I opted for the latter, or ladder.

It was a bit tenuous getting from the slide to the roof, but jumping off was worth the risk. You know, because I'm 34 and apparently still amused by the same things as a 16 year old.

I kept trying to get LJ to jump, but he was quite hesitant, claiming since he was shorter than me, it would be harder for him to get on the roof. Jamie urged him on saying, "Oh come on, Bone will give you a boost up."

Ah, yes, the boost up. That most ancient and reliable of methods for hoisting a human being skyward. The boost up is performed by clasping one's hands together in a virtually unbreakable grip, then turning them upside down like a stirrup. The climber puts his/her foot into the hands of the booster-upper and is lifted to higher ground.

It is unclear who invented the boost up. Some think Noah gave his wife a boost up into the ark. Others say no, that the ark had that big handicapped-accessible ramp. They surmise that perhaps Aaron gave the first boost up when Moses planted a dusty sandal in his brother's hands to get started up Sinai.

However it began, the boost up has endured for ages. I don't remember anyone ever teaching me how to do the boost up, it just seems I've always known. Maybe it's as instinctive as survival, blinking, or turning the channel whenever a Pauly Shore movie comes on. Someone needs to get somewhere vertically, there are no ladders or footholds around, your hands automatically go into position.

With the knuckles acting as a locking mechanism, not allowing the hands to slip apart, the boost up is virtually foolproof. I've never seen one fail.

I mean, think about it. Have you ever heard of someone getting injured and when you ask what happened they say, "Well, Bill was trying to give me a boost up, but it just didn't work?"

I didn't think so.

Anyway, after I had jumped about four or five times Saturday, LJ finally decided to give it a go. He stood on the rail of the pier while I proffered a trusty stirrup. And while the story would probably be a bit more entertaining if there had been a mishap, that did not happen. My friend clambered onto the roof, the beneficiary of another successful boost up.

Accidents happen. Ladders fall, feet slip, people go hunting with Dick Cheney. But the boost up never fails.

That's pretty much it for my weekend. I'm not sure what's on tap for next weekend, but after watching Scott Baio tonight, there may be a cuddle party in my near future.

"Man, it's a hot one, like seven inches from the mid-day sun..."

The gravitational pull of H2O

Blogging away while wondering if the Runner's World magazine I bought at Wal-Mart Sunday night somehow cancels out the Soap Opera Weekly I also purchased...

I am convinced that in the summertime, heat mixes with water causing a chemical reaction which actually gives the water a stronger gravitational pull than that of the land it divides.

Now you won't find this in any standard textbook and there's no Pythagorean Theorem or anything like that for it, but I am persuaded that it is true. (I hope to get my theory added to the Wikipedia entry for "water" soon.) Evidence can be seen in the hordes of people found at lakes, rivers, pools, beaches, water parks, swimming holes, and the like.

And so, I am drawn to the water. Saturday, I went over to my sister's to swim in her above ground pool. And by swim, I mean, lie on a float and allow the sun to deflower my tender, milky white skin.

The deck they are building alongside the pool is about half finished. And that's a good thing, because at first my sister's husband would back his truck up to the edge of the pool so that they could get in and out. I don't want to jinx anything, but we're hoping they'll make the 2008 You Might Be A Redneck If... calendar.

Little Joe, Wolfgang, and I made another trip to Kinlock on Sunday. I don't really understand the appeal of Kinlock to Wolfgang. He can't swim and he won't jump off the rocks. The odd thing is, more times than not, it's his idea to go to Kinlock.

Sunday, he slid down the falls one time, climbed out and sat on a rock for the rest of the time we were there. He seems to enjoy it though. I think the transition to senility will be a smooth one for him.

The two of them are going to New York later this year. Wolfgang was telling me about the place they'll be staying. Apparently, they have to share a bathroom with other guests. Sounds like maybe a hostel to me, but they never called it that. LJ overheard us.

LJ: "I told you Bone wouldn't like that idea at all."
WG: "What do you mean? He didn't say he didn't like it."
LJ: "Did you not see that fear of death look on his face when you told him we'd be sharing a shower with other people?"

True, that situation doesn't really mesh well with my Lysol-spraying, Vitamin C-taking, germophobic lifestyle. I just found it amusing that LJ knew that and wondered how and when picked up on that part of my personality.

I also discovered that LJ has an even worse agedar than I do. While Wolfgang and I were surmising the age of one of the girls there Sunday, LJ overheard us and stated disgustedly, "She's twelve!"

The girl had a tattoo on her lower back and later we saw her smoking a cigarette. So that would have to make her at least, what, fourteen? Pfft. Shows what you know, LJ. Still, I'm unsure if the tramp stamp cigarette defense would hold up in court.

In other Bachelors Gone Wild news, Sunday night at Wal-Mart I came across something in frozen foods that made me wonder if I hadn't slipped on the newly waxed floor, cracked my head open, and ascended to the heavens above: Patio burritos... 33 cents each! Oh my heavens! I got three! I like to melt a slice of American cheese on top of mine in the microwave.

Meanwhile, the water continues to beckon. Jamie called last night to see if I wanted to go to the city pool with her tonight. And Wolfgang, Little Joe, and I are planning a trip to the beach next month.

Ah yes, the ocean. The strongest gravitational pull of all.

"It's two bare feet on the dashboard, young love in an old Ford. Cheap Shades and a tattoo and a Yoo-Hoo bottle on the floorboard..."