Cruisin'

      Once again, chamacos, it’s time to gather ’round uncle Speed’s easy chair and listen with rapt delight, as I spin yarns about my latest adventure.
*****But first, a word of caution: those of you prone to heartsick depression may wish to stop here – most of what will follow will likely reduce you to a fetid heap of moribund goo, as you desperately wish, with all your heart, that you could be me. Read on at your peril.*****
      The sun rose bright and strong over the mighty Susquehanna last Saturday, as your skipper and 13 pleasure boaters prepared to set sail in a southerly direction, for parts unknown. Most of the sailors were seasoned veterans of these waters, well aware of the dangers lurking just below the surface of that placid flow. The hearts pounding in the breasts of the plebes however, belied the air of confidence they tried so hard to project. The tension was palpable; nonetheless, we cast off. A few pics of the early stages of the voyage follow (group pic missing Nate, Kyle & Dave, who were off parking cars…):

      Most of what occurred over the next 6 hours was typical seafarin’ stuff - rapids to negotiate, eddies to avoid, typhoons to sail through – no real challenge for yours truly. Then, appearing seemingly from out of thin air, there she was. Posed before me was a real live mermaid; the beauty of this creature was other-worldly! Like a siren, she beckoned me closer and closer..... Naturally, being the keen minded, scientific type, I understood quickly the value in documenting this occurrence. In no time, this gorgeous creature was captured in full 5 megapixel glory. But then, as quickly as she had appeared, she was gone. I pondered this, then realized the true nature of my treasure; she didn’t belong to me – she never did (que the sappy music). As heartbreaking as it was, I knew I had to let her go. Although I no longer have her digital image, I do remember what she looked like. Working as best I can from memory - here, in spectacular detail, is my treasure of the sea:
                                                                 
      Whilst I was otherwise engaged however, the crew fell into a mutinous grumble, fueled in no small part by what they felt was the interminable nature of the voyage. They discussed charting their own course. But just as the knives were about to be drawn and a plank prepared - finally, the sound we’d longed for those many nautical miles was heard; waves lapping against a distant shore. Land ho!

     Our makeshift city was soon erected and we at once turned our attention to the real purpose of our voyage, consuming our repast, firin’ up our smoke sticks and emptyin’ our tankards of grog healthy mature camping fellowship. Here’s evidence of that:   

      After a restful evening spent in nylon cocoons, the band of brigands awoke to the impossibly delicious aroma of Uncle Speed’s River Chow. Though only suited for real men (maybe the reason all did not partake), the wafting scent of this amazing brew surely tempted even the vultures that, oddly, seemed purposeful in their tracking of our journey the previous day. Soon enough though, we were back on the waves, charting a homeward course that wove us past the Statue Of Liberty (Dauphin County’s version), and ultimately brought us safely to the shores of Fort Hunter, USA.

      So there it is, darlings; off to bed with you now, as Tommy prepares for new adventures. Some of them will be newsworthy, others, not so much – all however, merely serve as shallow preludes to the highlight of this, and every social season, PattiPalooza X. Stay tuned.
      PS: I’m considering a name change for this, the most amazing information outlet since the demise of Rupert’s News Of The World. My working title is “Talk Is Cheap” (never more obviously so than a review of the annuls of this blog reveals). Gimme your thoughts on that - or feel free to suggest another. All input will be considered; only mine will prevail…..



   

Ready To Shove Off

Landlubbers:

           Well, it’s nearly here – the launch of this year’s Killa Flotilla. More than a dozen intrepid tars will soon set sail on an adventure down the mighty Susquehanna. For me, and a few other grizzled veterans of the open seas, this will be a return to that sacred waterway, whose genesis is found aways up thar in New York State.
           Having logged these many nautical miles, we cast off knowing full well the potential of those angry waves.

                 In addition, we’ll be responsible for the guidance of those

 wide-eyed pups in the group, for whom this will no doubt be the

 thrill of a lifetime.

                Your faithful captain will remain strong and firm, like a

 diamond among pearls; ever vigilant, ever strong, ever at the ready

 to encourage the faint of heart.  Avast, we sail at dawn……..