The tides rolled in, higher and higher on the rocks--closer and closer to me and Arielle, who took me to Point Lookout on one of the loveliest afternoons we've had this year.
She was up for it, wind and all. We rode into the wind all the way out, literally. It blew from just the right spot on the compass--somewhere between East-Southeast, South-Southeast and East-East South, I think. Whatever it was, it blew us all the way back to my place.
While she was soaking up the sun and wind--and I was getting burned by them, in spite of my third application of sunscreen to my arms, face and the back of my neck--I paid a visit to another old friend:
The Point Lookout Orca is a myth of my own creation. Which is to say, of course, that it's a rumor that, to my knowledge, has gone no further than this blog. I had to assure him, Arielle and myself that whatever the tide was bringing in was no more dangerous--at least, not yet--than anything that might result when two thin-skinned, impulsive guys lead their countries. One of them has a Twitter account. The other has, according to scientists, an Intercontinental Ballistic Missile (ICBM).
I fully expect the guy with the Twitter account to use it to exclaim that he has a bigger, stronger missile. But, because he needs the support of religious conservatives to undo everything Obama did, he can't let his warhead show. At least, not too much.
That was not a dirty joke. At least, I hope it isn't. If it is, then I've just dirty-bombed.
Anyway, it might seem frivolous to some that I am off riding my bike when we might be in the most serious situation this country has seen since the Cuban Missile Crisis. But,really, what else is there to do--besides peace, whether it's in one's own life or with others. And, yes, I've been doing as much of the latter as I can. The rides I take alone, like this one, enable me to do so as much as the rides I do with others--and the marches and everything else in which I participate.
She was up for it, wind and all. We rode into the wind all the way out, literally. It blew from just the right spot on the compass--somewhere between East-Southeast, South-Southeast and East-East South, I think. Whatever it was, it blew us all the way back to my place.
While she was soaking up the sun and wind--and I was getting burned by them, in spite of my third application of sunscreen to my arms, face and the back of my neck--I paid a visit to another old friend:
The Point Lookout Orca is a myth of my own creation. Which is to say, of course, that it's a rumor that, to my knowledge, has gone no further than this blog. I had to assure him, Arielle and myself that whatever the tide was bringing in was no more dangerous--at least, not yet--than anything that might result when two thin-skinned, impulsive guys lead their countries. One of them has a Twitter account. The other has, according to scientists, an Intercontinental Ballistic Missile (ICBM).
I fully expect the guy with the Twitter account to use it to exclaim that he has a bigger, stronger missile. But, because he needs the support of religious conservatives to undo everything Obama did, he can't let his warhead show. At least, not too much.
That was not a dirty joke. At least, I hope it isn't. If it is, then I've just dirty-bombed.
Anyway, it might seem frivolous to some that I am off riding my bike when we might be in the most serious situation this country has seen since the Cuban Missile Crisis. But,really, what else is there to do--besides peace, whether it's in one's own life or with others. And, yes, I've been doing as much of the latter as I can. The rides I take alone, like this one, enable me to do so as much as the rides I do with others--and the marches and everything else in which I participate.
