Fall came suddenly to Alabama this year. Not with its usual tap-on-the-shoulder, whisper-in-your-ear hint of a chill in the air. But rather much more pronounced. Thanks to Tropical Storm Lee, temps went from 97 to 60 in what seemed like a day.
I spent the Labor Day weekend as I believe it was intended: avoiding labor at all costs. Monday night, I put on a sweatshirt and watched the sun set over the lake. The sky was perfect. The wind coming off the water brought a bit of a chill. I lingered for awhile, not wanting the summer to be over.
Of course, it'll be back. Probably this weekend. But now only in shorter bursts and smaller and smaller pieces until it's gone for good.
And so I spend the week trying to both embrace the coming autumn and cling to the fading summer.
I watch all the football I can -- even those ESPN high school games-- unable to get my fill. But I'd love to get to the beach for one final summer fling.
I turn off the AC and roll down the windows to go out in the crisp evening air. I think of putting on a long-sleeved shirt for the drive, but opt for a plain white t-shirt and one more day of flip-flops instead.
And somehow it all seems to suit me.
There's an easiness to the days now. Memories abound in even the slightest autumn breeze. But that's OK. I like remembering. And though the days are noticeably shorter, and I know the winter won't be far, it doesn't worry my mind. For now, for today, it seems OK to just be.
I leave you today with this most disturbing poll.
Rolling Stone's Ten Worst Songs Of The '90s:
10. 4 Non Blondes - "What's Up?"
9. Right Said Fred - "I'm Too Sexy"
8. Baha Men - "Who Let The Dogs Out?"
7. Celine Dion - "My Heart Will Go On"
6. Hanson - "MMMBop"
5. Chumbawamba - "Tubthumping"
4. Vanilla Ice - "Ice Ice Baby"
3. Billy Ray Cyrus - "Achy Breaky Heart"
2. Los Del Rio - "Macarena"
1. Aqua - "Barbie Girl"
Umm, apparently we have very different definitions of the word "worst." As I have at least half those on my iTunes. And I'm pretty sure I had a couple of those cassette singles.
Also, I'd completely forgotten about 4 Non Blondes! Just went and downloaded it. Thanks, Rolling Stone.
"Lately I've learned how to listen, for a sound like the sun goin' down. In the magic the morning is bringin', there's a song for the life I have found..."
Showing posts with label Labor Day. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Labor Day. Show all posts
Thursday, September 08, 2011
Tuesday, September 21, 2010
Tipped a canoe and rafting, too
Why, hello there. I don't know where to start. This is almost awkward. Feels like we went on a date three weeks ago and I'm just now getting around to calling.
So what's my excuse? I dunno, post-Blogust fatigue syndrome, maybe? Also, if work gets any more "fun" I'm pretty sure it will be in direct violation of the Geneva Convention. If it makes you feel any better, I've completely let my fantasy baseball team go, too.
But enough of that. If you're still here then I am going to assume there is hope for us. And so, I want to try and catch up on a couple of things I have taken part in over the past few weeks. Today I will recap my whitewater rafting trip on the Ocoee over Labor Day weekend.
This was my first time. And boy, it was quite a whirlwind. Took us about five hours, which was about an hour longer than it was supposed to take. And I remember at least seven or eight times I was pretty sure we were going in the wrong direction. I seriously began to wonder if we were going to make it.
And that was just the drive up.
Rafting itself was fun, if a bit of hard work. Our guide was quite demanding. I should have known something wasn't exactly right when we were getting in our raft and I saw the words "Hell's Dinghy" painted on the side.
Throughout the trip I kept noticing passengers in the other rafts (which, by the way, were passing us as our guide kept getting us stuck on rocks) didn't seem to be paddling half as much as we were. Others noticed it, too. I think I can best describe it as the Grizzly River Rampage meets hard labor camp. So you know, you get wet but you work for it.
Also as fate would have it, I wound up in the front of the raft, which according to our "guide" (so take this with a grain of salt) meant I was integral to helping steer the craft. All the paddlers on my side of the raft were supposed to pace themselves off of me.
Umm, is now the time to mention I tipped a canoe earlier this summer?
(That's me in the helmet. That's me in the front-right, losing my religion...)
Our guide kept making fun of himself and at first I thought it was an attempt at self-deprecating humor. But in the end, I think he was just being honest. He wasn't very good. Then again, he got us to the end, no one fell out, and we all survived, which with me up front was probably no small accomplishment.
I was surprised at just how many rafts and rafting companies were running the river. In my mind, I had pictured it a bit more isolated, where maybe you pass another raft every four or five minutes. But it's nothing like that. There was a line of rafts waiting to enter the river, one right after another, and you were never out of sight of at least three other rafts. It was more like an amusement park, which I think could lure people into a false sense of safety.
In closing, any recapitulation of this trip would be unjust and incomplete without me mentioning the "changing room incident." We got back to the outpost (fancy word for rafting company headquarters) and one of the guides said there were rooms in the back where we could change.
So I went back to the car, got some dry clothes and went into the so-called changing room. I guess I was expecting it to be like Old Navy. You know, several tiny rooms, each with a door, a mirror, and a little bench. Unfortunately, it was not like that at all. There was just this big open room with three shower stalls. No other walls. No partitions. Nothing. I mean, I would have been better off changing behind a tree.
Well, I turned my back to the rest of the guys. There were only three or four of us in there at the time and I figured facing the wall was the best place to start. You know, it wouldn't have been so bad if I had been wearing underwear. I'm completely comfortable walking around in my underwear. But I was only wearing swim trunks, which have the sort of built-in underwear.
Anyway, for some unbeknownst reason, I decided to take a quick glance around. I dunno, I think maybe I was gonna check to see if the showers had curtains and I could change in there. Well that was quite possibly the biggest mistake of my life.
This is why I could never be in prison. Or a porn star. I just can't do communal showers.
Anyway, other than the awkward changing room incident and the possible long-term effects thereof, the Ocoee trip was miles of fun. Literally. It was five miles of rafting. I'm thankful I got to experience whitewater rafting at its most commercial. And also thankful I didn't read this list of rafting accidents and fatalities in the state of Tennessee before the trip. Else I may never have gone.
"Oh life is bigger. It's bigger than you, and you are not me. The lengths that I will go to. The distance in your eyes..."
So what's my excuse? I dunno, post-Blogust fatigue syndrome, maybe? Also, if work gets any more "fun" I'm pretty sure it will be in direct violation of the Geneva Convention. If it makes you feel any better, I've completely let my fantasy baseball team go, too.
But enough of that. If you're still here then I am going to assume there is hope for us. And so, I want to try and catch up on a couple of things I have taken part in over the past few weeks. Today I will recap my whitewater rafting trip on the Ocoee over Labor Day weekend.
This was my first time. And boy, it was quite a whirlwind. Took us about five hours, which was about an hour longer than it was supposed to take. And I remember at least seven or eight times I was pretty sure we were going in the wrong direction. I seriously began to wonder if we were going to make it.
And that was just the drive up.
Rafting itself was fun, if a bit of hard work. Our guide was quite demanding. I should have known something wasn't exactly right when we were getting in our raft and I saw the words "Hell's Dinghy" painted on the side.
Throughout the trip I kept noticing passengers in the other rafts (which, by the way, were passing us as our guide kept getting us stuck on rocks) didn't seem to be paddling half as much as we were. Others noticed it, too. I think I can best describe it as the Grizzly River Rampage meets hard labor camp. So you know, you get wet but you work for it.
Also as fate would have it, I wound up in the front of the raft, which according to our "guide" (so take this with a grain of salt) meant I was integral to helping steer the craft. All the paddlers on my side of the raft were supposed to pace themselves off of me.
Umm, is now the time to mention I tipped a canoe earlier this summer?
(That's me in the helmet. That's me in the front-right, losing my religion...)
Our guide kept making fun of himself and at first I thought it was an attempt at self-deprecating humor. But in the end, I think he was just being honest. He wasn't very good. Then again, he got us to the end, no one fell out, and we all survived, which with me up front was probably no small accomplishment.
I was surprised at just how many rafts and rafting companies were running the river. In my mind, I had pictured it a bit more isolated, where maybe you pass another raft every four or five minutes. But it's nothing like that. There was a line of rafts waiting to enter the river, one right after another, and you were never out of sight of at least three other rafts. It was more like an amusement park, which I think could lure people into a false sense of safety.
In closing, any recapitulation of this trip would be unjust and incomplete without me mentioning the "changing room incident." We got back to the outpost (fancy word for rafting company headquarters) and one of the guides said there were rooms in the back where we could change.
So I went back to the car, got some dry clothes and went into the so-called changing room. I guess I was expecting it to be like Old Navy. You know, several tiny rooms, each with a door, a mirror, and a little bench. Unfortunately, it was not like that at all. There was just this big open room with three shower stalls. No other walls. No partitions. Nothing. I mean, I would have been better off changing behind a tree.
Well, I turned my back to the rest of the guys. There were only three or four of us in there at the time and I figured facing the wall was the best place to start. You know, it wouldn't have been so bad if I had been wearing underwear. I'm completely comfortable walking around in my underwear. But I was only wearing swim trunks, which have the sort of built-in underwear.
Anyway, for some unbeknownst reason, I decided to take a quick glance around. I dunno, I think maybe I was gonna check to see if the showers had curtains and I could change in there. Well that was quite possibly the biggest mistake of my life.
This is why I could never be in prison. Or a porn star. I just can't do communal showers.
Anyway, other than the awkward changing room incident and the possible long-term effects thereof, the Ocoee trip was miles of fun. Literally. It was five miles of rafting. I'm thankful I got to experience whitewater rafting at its most commercial. And also thankful I didn't read this list of rafting accidents and fatalities in the state of Tennessee before the trip. Else I may never have gone.
"Oh life is bigger. It's bigger than you, and you are not me. The lengths that I will go to. The distance in your eyes..."
Thursday, July 09, 2009
Independence Day in Nowhere, USA
Now that the 4th has passed, I know Summer is just biding its time. All the days pass with unsettling rapidity, but none so fast to me as these between the Fourth of July and Labor Day. Before I turn around, September will be here. And let's face it, no matter what the calendar says, September was never really Summer.
The big news around these parts this week has been all about Nephew Bone. Last Friday, with little warning but much fanfare, he began walking upright. At the age of 10 months and 13 days, Nephew Bone took his first steps. Now he bounds around for five, eight, ten steps at a time with a perpetual smile on his face like he just discovered bubble wrap. The sheer and utter joy he gets out of life is a continual lesson for me.
My 4th of July was pretty low-key. I mean, I didn't climb any national monuments to hang a protest banner if that's what you're after. I've actually never even painted anything on a water tower. It's one of the great shames of my life.
I spent the entire day in a tiny town where I had no cell phone service. None. Not even on a hill. It was the cell phone equivalent of absolute zero.
At first, I was a little perturbed that I wasn't going to be able to check and see how my fantasy baseball team was faring. But in the end it wound up being kinda nice. To be completely unconnected and unreachable for an entire day. What a novel concept. I could foresee this becoming a regular thing... again.
We spent the better part of Saturday's daylight hours canoeing. Nine miles. Five hours. Surprised? Well, you don't get arms like these by lifting the remote.
It was actually my first time canoeing. I think I did OK. I mean there were a couple of times when we were facing the wrong way. I seem to recall some other canoers riding by and laughing. Then at one point, we had to limbo under a tree that had fallen across the river and for a brief instant there I wondered if the Bone name would indeed live on. But overall, it was fun and I didn't injure anyone, at least not to the point that it required medical attention, so I deem it a qualified success.
Saturday night, I enjoyed a couple of corn dogs at the local park while taking in a softball game between the hometown American Legion team and what I took to be a team of alumni--a slightly-to-moderately overweight bunch calling themselves The Legends. After the game, there were fireworks. Literally, not figuratively.
It was good to spend the 4th of July in Small Town, USA. Good to see flags flying in yards and a few houses even decorated with red, white, and blue banners. I grew up in a town not a whole lot bigger than that. And I spent many of those days wondering what I was missing in some big city in some faraway place. Saturday night, I didn't feel like I was missing a thing.
"You could lie on a riverbank. Or paint your name on a water tank. Miscount all the beers you drank, back where I come from..."
The big news around these parts this week has been all about Nephew Bone. Last Friday, with little warning but much fanfare, he began walking upright. At the age of 10 months and 13 days, Nephew Bone took his first steps. Now he bounds around for five, eight, ten steps at a time with a perpetual smile on his face like he just discovered bubble wrap. The sheer and utter joy he gets out of life is a continual lesson for me.
My 4th of July was pretty low-key. I mean, I didn't climb any national monuments to hang a protest banner if that's what you're after. I've actually never even painted anything on a water tower. It's one of the great shames of my life.
I spent the entire day in a tiny town where I had no cell phone service. None. Not even on a hill. It was the cell phone equivalent of absolute zero.
At first, I was a little perturbed that I wasn't going to be able to check and see how my fantasy baseball team was faring. But in the end it wound up being kinda nice. To be completely unconnected and unreachable for an entire day. What a novel concept. I could foresee this becoming a regular thing... again.
We spent the better part of Saturday's daylight hours canoeing. Nine miles. Five hours. Surprised? Well, you don't get arms like these by lifting the remote.
It was actually my first time canoeing. I think I did OK. I mean there were a couple of times when we were facing the wrong way. I seem to recall some other canoers riding by and laughing. Then at one point, we had to limbo under a tree that had fallen across the river and for a brief instant there I wondered if the Bone name would indeed live on. But overall, it was fun and I didn't injure anyone, at least not to the point that it required medical attention, so I deem it a qualified success.
Saturday night, I enjoyed a couple of corn dogs at the local park while taking in a softball game between the hometown American Legion team and what I took to be a team of alumni--a slightly-to-moderately overweight bunch calling themselves The Legends. After the game, there were fireworks. Literally, not figuratively.
It was good to spend the 4th of July in Small Town, USA. Good to see flags flying in yards and a few houses even decorated with red, white, and blue banners. I grew up in a town not a whole lot bigger than that. And I spent many of those days wondering what I was missing in some big city in some faraway place. Saturday night, I didn't feel like I was missing a thing.
"You could lie on a riverbank. Or paint your name on a water tank. Miscount all the beers you drank, back where I come from..."
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