Sunday, July 24, 2005

on the verge of a luff.

My first sailing class is tomorrow. I will not become very seaworthy as I'm only going to be here for another month and the club hours are designed for high schoolers during the summer and the rich and/or retired, but what might be the best 4 hours of my life were spent sailing, so this must be done. Tomorrow's class is called Shore I., and it is a "classroom presentation that teaches the basics of sailing." I hope it will elucidate some of the concepts on the Beginning Sailor's Primer sheet that I picked up in the front office, such as "TO START SAILING: Put the tiller to the center position and trim the sail to the VERGE OF A LUFF." Capitalization theirs. I look forward to learning what these terms mean and throwing them around in casual conversation. And I can tell by the captilization that I am certain to at least start out by trimming the sail until just after luffing occurs, and that there is nothing I can do about that.

Anyway, today was perfect, sunny, no humidity, 80's, and I spent it sitting at the end of a long pier that juts into the Charles, reading "Brazil," by John Updike, about which I'll have more to say later.

Friday night I went to a Moroccan restaurant with Tom Flaherty, who in looks and mannerisms resembles Tim Canterbury from The Office, which is a very good thing, although Tom is slightly more feline in appearance. After dinner I suggested we stop for a drink at Bukowski's, where we had met, "because, you know, after our time together ends in tears, remorse, and self-recriminations, we won't be able to come here so light-heartedly for a good while," upon which I think he looked at me funny. Let it never be said I'm not a sweet-talker with the gents. But the night was a success, and he is coming to the pizza and beer and board-games thing that Shannon and I are having on Tuesday.

Saturday, Shannon and I spent the day in Provincetown, which was spectacular and not nearly as tacky and kitschy as I'd been led to believe. I could have spent all day at Puzzle Me This, where I bought Canasta and a kind of card game that's like gin rummy with words called Quizzler, and,in an effort become less brutishly spatially stupid, a game called Tangoes that involves arranging little shapes to make bigger shapes and is frustrating and addictive. We took the fast ferry over first thing in the morning, and it was very windy on deck.



We did normal Cape-y things, walked on the beach, played in the ocean in our dresses, went shopping, drank cocktails on waterfront decks, and ate fried things served in cardboard boxes that pleased me so much conceptually, thematically and gastronomically that I, well, look:



Fried scallops, delicious.

okay, my wrists are starting to hurt. I'll pick this up later.

4 Comments:

Anonymous Anonymous said...

Just remember the most important sailing term of all...
"turning about" means DUCK! - Marisa

10:40 PM  
Blogger dave said...

Hey, Bukowski's! After a weekend in Boston spent going from one expensive and crowded frat bar to another in the hopes that my dude friends might score with chicks, we ended our weekend at Bukowski's, sitting in the back and finally being able to chat for once.

I'm no fan of that writer, but that bar? Top-notch.

9:11 AM  
Blogger j. ondioline said...

Yeah, I think it's near-perfect. if it carried Bell's Oberon, it'd give God a run for his money. Did you go to the one in Boston or Cambridge?

11:35 AM  
Blogger dave said...

Boston. I recall it being near a bridge. Is that so?

12:49 PM  

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