RELAX...GO SAILING

My buddy has a 30-ft. sailboat moored in Holland Michigan.
I was invited a couple of summers ago, to go with him for a relaxing week of sailing. Visions of beautiful skies and pristine horizons, filled my mind...I imagined smelling fresh air and frolicking on deck with young girls in thongs and band aids for bikini tops. "Yes, I want to go!", was my immediate response to his query.

We arrived at his slip after a relaxing drive from Chicago...We stopped at 4-Winds Casino in New Buffalo for a few hours...and we both won a couple hundred bucks playing Roulette. Not a bad start! The weather in Michigan was gorgeous...Mid 70's and low humidities. I marveled at the beautiful sailing vessels as we walked down the concrete pier to his station. I looked forward to seeing his sailboat...I pictured a fancy job, with state of the art radio, TV, fancy bar, kitchen, gold handled bathroom fixtures...you know?...the whole 9 yards! My jaw dropped when I saw this bucket of blood...What a bucket of scum! He said: "Welcome home!"...My heart sank down to my feet. Then he continues, "It ain't much, but it's seaworthy."...Like this is supposed to make me feel better. He continues..."I brought you up here Rich, so yah could help me with the diesel engine, my electrical system and the bilge pump. I spent 8 hours with a flashlight in my mouth and a crescent wrench in my grubby, greasy hands, changing fuel filters, lines, battery cables, and electrical wires and connections. Some of the time, my friend had to hold me by my ankles, so I wouldn't fall into the mucky bilge depths, as I repaired his stinking engine! I worked like a dog for 2 days. My legs felt like toothaches. His cabin stunk of diesel fumes, and I gasped for breath at night, sleeping intermittently because of my emphysema. Part of my nocturnal activity was slapping spiders away from my face...I think they liked my beard. The old boat was filled with spiders and egg sacs.

Before bed, we sat there telling old stories, while we watched an out-of-focus black and white TV set with a 12-inch screen. My buddy said, "Maybe you can help me hook it to the cable tommorow, Rich!" "Then we can work on sewing the holes in my sails, and fixing the emergency radio."

Some fun, eh? After this sailing adventure week, I heard Christopher Cross singing his famous song, "Sailing", while I was waxing my truck in our garage. My wife looked really strangely at me, when I grabbed my portable radio, and threw it as far as I could, into the cul-de-sac in front of our house. I know my maniacal laughter really frightened her, as I saw the damned thing explode into a million pieces...Fuck sailing.