I'm no sailor by any stretch of the imagination but I felt I had to be there. The TASCAns invited me to their annual picnic by the Lake once again which is a sad reminder that we are nearing the conclusion of the outdoor life here in the East as the Labor Day weekend arrives.A chain link fence encloses the makeshift boathouse on the other side of the Meadow Lake as the old one is being renovated and won't be open for two years. All of the Club activities and classes still proceed as if nothing is happening and of course that includes the yearly Labor Day blast.
Talk about a dull life, the pot luck lunch is the highlight of my day at the Lake. I safely secured or so I thought, save for those mosquitoes and whatever crawlies there were, a place under the shade for my chair and a book to read. I was hoping that after my fill of barbecued chicken, salad and an assortment of desserts, I could just kick back, relax and enjoy the tranquility of the park. Not so. Two pages into the book and I was so totally distracted by the passers-by.From cotton candy and kite peddling to quadri-cycling, or simply wandering shirtless in the park, everyone seems to be expending some energy except me. If aging is in your mind, you're so on target. Sometimes I just like to sit around and take it all in.
After dock mastering for a good half hour Marsha and Maria decided to sail. These two have become masters at abandoning their nautical duties with the Club and why not? They too are entitled to have some fun at the high seas (they wish). Yeah sail fast, downwind at twenty knots while I stood behind just people watching.
I'm a glaring contrast to my friends. The extent of my athleticism is pointing at a subject and pressing the shutter button to take some blurry shots and my idea of hiking is grabbing some food as I circle the picnic table. So what do I know about knots? Nothing, except maybe to untangle them? I happen to know a thing or two about weeding or pruning if that counts as a competitive, skillful and entertaining physical activity to you.
The Labor Day festival was capped off with a 7-gun salute that was fired from a yachting cannon. So real, it casted a haze of gun smokes on the dock. Although the picture might suggest otherwise. Sorry Walter, from my vantage point all I could take was your behind.
Walter's toy, a 16-inch reproduction of the Herreshoff Saluting Cannon, boomed out the 7-gun salute. It's made of bronze, rides on a teak carriage, loads and fires 10 gauge blanks. Loud it was that I was told to wear earmuffs as I get closer to the dock. The Russian picnickers were spooked out while Walter's baby twins just slept thru the ritual. It was fun.
Now let's examine this picture more deeply.Piracy on the high seas! It looks like there's some serious and stern reprimanding going on here. Hey Petra Pan, it's not like there's some crocodiles that got a taste of Hook here that will resurface from this murky lake.
Back off Barbara. No one dies of excessive joie de vivre which Walter possesses. It's a toy for heaven's sake. Who cares if the Russians complained to you about the noise? They were pissed, so what. The cops knew about the gun-firing and if these people can't take a little bit of noise let them go ahead and rally their troops.
Hey Walter, you should've taken Maria's challenge to fire a 21-gun salute instead! That would've been a blast.
