The Islander: Volume 7

30 Apr
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View of the Atlantic Ocean at Pete’s Pub.  

Day 55.  Aside from the initial slowness I mentioned in my first blog, things are progressing relatively well.  I find myself slowly acclimatizing to life on my own and have come to a few different realizations.  I’ve realized that in my quest to not starve to death and to not eat cereal multiple times a day, I should teach myself to cook.  My cooking skills are evolving at an exponential rate.

cheese sandwich

Oh…while on the topic of food, I’ve also realized that the folks at Fyre Fest, Nochella (whichever you prefer), have varying opinions of “gourmet”.  And you thought we weren’t going to broach that topic.  One of my friends, who shall remain nameless…

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I never said he’d remain faceless….

tried to coax a group of us to go.  For multiple reasons, we declined the request.  But I digress.

I’ve also realized how important quality time is since I’ve moved.  Once you move to another place, you no longer have that luxury of just doing things with friends and family at will, and so you appreciate the time that you do spend together or talk.  One of the persons I speak to with regularity is my dad.

People say that I look exactly like my dad and that we share the same mannerisms etc.  It’s so bad that I walk into places sometimes and people tell me who my father is before I even get a chance to introduce myself.  My dad is responsible for my love of everything aviation.  He would take me to the airport as a young kid and we’d sit right under the approach path for hours watching airplanes land and takeoff.  My mom hated this as she always thought the airplanes would land on top of us but for me, this was exhilarating.  We also would go out on Sundays and fly model airplanes…a practice he still engages in to this day.

My dad is also a character.  He’s funny…but what makes him funny is the fact that he’s dead serious with whatever he’s saying.  For example, about 20 years ago, we were all in the house with the exception being my mother whom was in the backyard gardening when we all heard a loud shriek.  My mother ran inside and stated to my father that there was a snake on the patio outside.  In not so many words and a few expletives that I will spare you from reading on a Sunday, he got the hint that it was his duty to rid the world of this reptile.

This snake was no regular snake however.  The snake must have seen my dad coming with the cutlass and escaped into a crack in the patio.  Now I like to think that I’m fairly smart and reasonable.  Qualities I must get from my mother because my father had the ingenious idea of pouring gas into the crack and lighting a match to place in the crack to kill the snake.

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 I couldn’t make this up if I tried.  In some kind of National Geographic documentary where mother lions protect their cubs from prey, one minute I was there as a kid thinking to myself that this was a terrible idea, the next I was in my mother’s arms watching the house get smaller as we ran away from the house.  We waited for a boom that never came.  Clearly the original fyre festival would have been right on Sapphire Ridge.

There are tons of honorable mentions too.  Last year I called my father to wish him Happy Birthday.  He responded “It’s today?”  Just this morning, he told me he’d call me back because church was going in at 10:00AM.  Never mind the fact that it was 10:11AM.  There were somber moments as well.  I remember when our house flooded and we had water up to my parent’s waist in the house.  That night, I climbed on my dad’s back to get out of the house because the water level was too high for me to stand.  This was obviously after I secured my most prized possession of course:  my Sega Genesis.  Months later, my dad would give me bad advice that would lead to that very Sega blowing up.  I plugged it into an outlet that had a higher voltage than the other outlets which led to my Sega shorting out…I remember the pop and faint burning smell to this day.

This is what I’m up against.  While we have had our share of disagreements over the years, there have been more good times than bad ones.  Christmas was always a fun time in the house.  My dad is a big proponent of science (which is why the whole gasoline and fire thing still perplexes me to this day) and he’d always get toys that made me think.  One time he bought me a robot that I had to assemble.  To this day it still works.  He’s always been a supportive father, always reminding me to push myself further and to make the best of the hand I’ve been dealt.  What else could you really ask for?  Well…aside from a fire extinguisher.

Life’s a Beach.  Enjoy the wave.

 

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