OBFT XXX Mental Recuperation

Definitely have the dummies today from the trip, but a couple of other memories surfaced:

1) my flight out of Newark was delayed (of course) and Marston and Gormley deserted me, so I had to enlist an Uber . . . and I really wanted a cup of coffee-- so on the way to the ride-share pick-up area I tried to stop at one Starbucks, but there was a line, and then I stumbled upon another Starbucks and I don't go to Starbucks so I didn't really know how or where to order, but I got the attention of the black dude behind the counter and told him I wanted a medium coffee, black, and he said, "Let me finish this" and then he poured me a coffee and slid it over to me and I was like "where do I pay? at this kiosk?" and he said, "don't worry about it" and I said, "really?" and he said, "no problem" and I thanked him and went on my way;

2) Friday, Whitney, who had just awoken at 11 AM and had a bit of a hangover, was gearing himself for our daily jaunt to Tortuga's bar-- we get there when it opens at 11:30 AM . . . and he said, "alright, time to strap it on again!" and I said, "I think you mean 'tie one on again' because 'strap it on again' means something very different.

OBFT XXX!

Despite the cheesy aesthetic stylings of the OBFT XXX t-shirt (and the cheesy aesthetic stylings of the old men in attendance) the thirtieth annual Outer Banks Fishing Trip was a roaring success:

1) record number of guys in attendance . . . in no particular order: Whit, Rob, Cliff, Jason, Marston, Billy, Marlin, Gormley, Charlie, Gus, Swaney, Old, Overton, Joe, Coby, Fischel, Noble, Wainwright, Bruce, Paci, Stew, Hoopie, Ethan, Ian, Rodell, Dave Fairbanks, and me;

2) great weather-- cool and breezy;

3) a new game: Pizzazz . . . I hate the Southern Gentlemen accents;

4) the usual fun and food and Tortuga's;

5) the introduction of "the light bag" in cornhole;

6) no spikeball for Stew;

7) first rainy day in years;

8) Gormley christened the back fo the rental car after a long Wednesday night . . . always a mistake;

9) new stairs and less dune . . . 

10) while we did not fish, we certainly supported the fishing industry by eating a hell of a lot of seafood;

11) a great time, thanks for hosting Whit (and Coby and Charlie for cooking) and now it's time to dry out and get ready for tomorrow's jury duty.

Outer Banks Fishing Trip XXIX

Here are a few things I remember from OBFT XXIX:

1) manatee sighting;

2) Bruce gave a heartfelt speech and then we took turns scattering some of Johnny's mortal remains into the bosom of the Atlantic Ocean . . . and luckily the wind was blowing the right direction so there were no Lebowski moments;

3) sea turtle nest next to the dune, so we were chastised for being "in the direct line" between the turtle eggs and the ocean-- I could hear David Attenborough's voice describing the difficult journey the baby turtles make from under the sand and into the ocean, trying to avoid the drunken middle age men, the beer cans, and the flying cornhole bags . . . unfortunately, the eggs did not hatch while we were there, but we did get to watch the volunteers rake the sand and build a little walled runway for the turtles;

4) Ethan told an excellent joke about a party that was going to have some "drinking, dancing, fighting and fucking" . . . I can't wait to tell it;

5) Paci spoke in a German accent for thirty-five minutes straight;

6) Gormley spoke in tongues on Wednesday night at Whitney's new place . . . and Billy made the mistake of staying up late with him;

7) Whitney was in the middle of a move-- so while we enjoyed the pool in Norfolk, he was running around trying to figure out task rabbit chores, prices of furniture, and other real estate minutia;

8) Whitney's canopy withstood the wind, mine did not . . . and then I forgot it;

9) Whitney and I played a live version of our tribute song "Where's Johnny?"

10) plenty of stinging jellyfish in the water (mainly in the mornings) so Marston offered to drink a lot of beer so he could pee on anyone who was stung . . . maybe next year he'll get his chance;

11) Charlie Carter cooked an amazing meal of tuna and beef tenderloin and Fernandez brought down a bunch of high quality sliced smoked meats-- chorizo and salami and such-- and some really good bread and cheese . . a whole charcuterie!

12) we filled the bar at Tortuga's on Friday, including the panhandle-- and we were NOT shushed;

13) much cornhole was played on the beach-- I had good runs with Old, Marston, and Smokin' Joe;

14) Mac thought I might like a band called Ice 9 Kills-- perhaps because the lead singer holds various weapons (including a chainsaw) while singing, but I informed him they were a little heavy for my taste now, and that I was listening to a lot of Steely Dan;

15) Mac and Whit played a drunken game of drunk driver;

16) Whitney engineered a compelling song connection/trivia night on the deck on Saturday;

17) Z was played on Friday;

18) we got salad with our pizza Saturday night;

19) I believe a good time was had by all . . . thanks again Whitney (and everyone involved) for organizing, traveling, and making this happen-- we've been doing this for more our half our lives now!

Back from the Beach

A fun but slightly fraught family beach vacation-- Alex never made it down, he kept testing positive for COVID and he didn't want to risk passing it to my father or the two pregnant cousins-- but the rest of us had a good time (despite the frigid water temperatures) playing pickle ball, basketball, tennis, cornhole, and spikeball . . . Greg and I defended our cornhole title (despite the presence of his wife) and that will be it for us-- you get one year to defend your title in the random draw cousins event, so next year we will both be back in the pool . . . because of the cold water, I did a lot of reading on the trip-- I finished Jonathan Franzen's new novel Crossroads, The Rise and Fall of the Neoliberal Order: America and the World in the Free Market Era by Gary Gerstle, and Last Orgy of the Divine Hermit by Mark Leyner (and I started Tracy Flick Can't Win by Tom Perrotta . . . in other news, my brother got engaged to his longtime girlfriend Amy (and all things being equal, my dad-- while toasting them-- also mentioned the cornhole champions) so we're adding another wedding to the mix (a bunch of the cousins are getting married and there are two babies on the way, so next year's trip will have a different tenor) and while it's good to be home and see Alex and Lola again, there's nothing like the ocean breeze at the Jersey Shore and it's going to be really fucking hot all week inland (but at least I'm headed down to OBFT in a few days).

Sad Day (Hard to Recover After a Dart Like This)

It's going to be a sad Outer Banks Fishing Trip this year . . . as our main man Johnny G. passed away today-- I hope he's sleeping soundly in the big hammock in the sky (not on a picnic table in the courtyard of The Weeping Radish, unnoticed for several hours-- so that when he returned and no one batted an eye, he said, "What! Nobody even missed me?!") and this was a theme with him, as he went missing at Cat's Fortieth and OBFT XXV . . . anyway, whether it was playing poker or darts, shooting the shit about sci-fi, or our annual ride together from Norfolk to the Outer Banks, I always enjoyed spending quality time with Johnny and I know he will be sorely missed by the whole gang (he's to my right in the old photo-- I'm the one who looks like he's wearing a toupee . . . I used to have such thick luxurious hair) and I will never forget his favorite good-natured darting heckle, done in his gravelly voice: "it's hard to recover from a dart like that . . ."

OBFT XXVIII

The 28th annual Outer Banks Fishing Trip was yet again a great success, here are some things I remember:

1) Gormley and I crushed everyone at cornhole but the field was weak-- the lack of Jerry, Marston, and Old made a decided difference;

2) once Bruce and I made a plan, we took all comers at Frisbeer;

3) Bruce collected change for sixteen years in order to save money to buy a car for his kids to use-- and he did it-- but he won't let his kids use the car that he bought;

4) in a strange Tortuga's bar over/under we learned that nearly half of those present had "stolen corn" . . . from a cornfield;

5) I had a good time trying to keep up with Baldwin on his dobro style guitar . . . in the background I could hear Rob and Coby arguing politics;

6) the water was lovely and cool, the sand was hot, hot, hot;

7) we set up two canopies and had lots of beach time, despite the hot western wind, which picks up every day in the afternoon, according to Bruce (and empirical observation)

8) we mainly drank Guinness, Red Stripe, Truly, Pacifico, and peachie-weechies;

9) Ethan proffered much knowledge on environmental issues in Florida;

10) we played QB54 and Bruce didn't like it;

11) Charlie cooked up a storm of seared tuna and shrimp;

12) we were shushed at the bar at Tortuga's by some youngish bartender;

13) jokes were told, but they are not to be repeated;

14) Swaney fell down the steps to the shower, but didn't break his hip-- just suffered a few scrapes;

15) a good time was had by all, thanks again for hosting Whit, job well done!

R.I.P. JJ McClure (and his Masterful Mustache)

Sadly, Burt Reynolds has taken his last wild ambulance ride and finally joined his buddy Dom DeLuise at the Great Cannonball Run in the Sky . . . and while the Smokey and the Bandit and Cannonball Run movie franchises make me nostalgic for my youth and simpler times, I just learned that Reynolds turned down the role of Han Solo in Star Wars . . . I can't imagine how much better that movie would have been if it contained a shirtless Reynolds ambling around the Millenium Falcon, his chest hair rivaling that of his sidekick Chewbacca . . . anyway, in honor of the man, the mustache, and the legend, I'm revisiting OBFT XVI-- the year of our mustache contest and my award winning 'stache-- and posting a photo of me at my most Burt.

OBFT XXV

The 25th Annual Outer Banks Fishing Trip is in the books, another fantastic one-- thanks Whit!-- here are some of the things that happened:

1) we spent Wednesday night at Whitney's mom's place in Norfolk-- he is living there now-- and his mom and step-dad had just rolled into to town from Florida, but were sleeping elsewhere because we had a house full of fishermen, and so they were showing up in the morning and Whitney's step-dad said he needed to do some work on the house, out back in the little courtyard connected to the garage, so when I woke up at 7:30 AM and heard some banging I figured he was doing aforementioned work, but I also heard the TV, and I figured I would go downstairs and and say hello and help with whatever was going on-- I turned in early and no one else was awake so I went downstairs and the TV was on and no one was watching and the banging was coming from the back door-- it was Johnny G. who yelled "Dave! My savior!" when I opened the door-- he went out for a cigarette at 3 AM and Whitney had just locked the door-- so Johnny was locked out and had to sleep in the car in the garage . . . shades of the McGrant incident at the Weeping Radish;

2) many of us ate salad with a slab of rare tuna on it at Tortuga's and it was good;

3) Hookey was a popular new addition to the usual array of games-- you throw rubber rings at hooks on a circular piece of wood that is hung on the wall and then do lots of math to figure out who wins (and many people, including myself, said the line, "I was told there would be no math," which is paraphrasing, and though I said it, I had no idea where it was from . . . here's the actual origin)

4) the water was NOT good . . . cold and rough;

5) Bruce painted a picture (or commissioned someone to paint a picture-- same difference)

6) Jon (Yes-man) showed up, after a twenty-three year hiatus (he attended the first trip and never came back until this year) and Billy interrogated him as to why;

7) Jon (Lunkhead) attended for the first time ever;

8) Charlie brought back the cooking-- we had fish one night and a tenderloin the next-- there were also some bacon wrapped scallops . . . the long and short of it was it was easy to avoid carbs (and vegetables) because there weren't any;

9) Johnny woke up Friday morning and couldn't find his pants or his wallet;

10) the debut of the pantsless griffin;

11) Rob slept next to his mattress on the back porch;

12) Marls brought his tennis racket but I did not;

13) Scott and I played some guitar together . . . he's really good so I kicked Whitney out of the band;

14) Bruce told a joke and I reciprocated with the Willie Nelson joke (which I also apparently told last year . . . these things are really starting to blur);

15) we all made playlists but I don't think anyone played their playlist;

16) Whitney was a fabulous host for the 25th year in a row . . . already looking forward to XXVI.

Shit I'm Watching With the Kids #1

I hope I'm in Norfolk by now, and here is some promised drivel to peruse while I'm attending OBFT XXV . . . I consider TV a social experience and the only thing I'll watch alone is a sporting event (you're part of the crowd) and I'm not watching The Handmaid's Tale with My Wife (not enough jokes) so I'm watching stuff with the kids-- I'll dole out exactly what we're watching day by day until my return from the Outer Banks; right now we're hooked on The Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt . . . it's my second time through and it's just as funny and-- despite all the 90's references, which I'm constantly explaining-- my kids love it.

OBFT XXIII

Another successful Outer Banks Fishing Trip . . . thanks to Whitney and everyone else on this year's rather light team of fishermen . . . here are a few things that happened (or might have happened or almost happened) and some notes for next year:

1) I got hit in the genitals by a stray frisbee, thrown by Rob, who might be trying to take me out (as Rob, Whitney and I are the only fishermen who have perfect attendance);

2) best water ever;

3) we were chastised at Tortuga's for clapping and cheering too passionately for a little league baseball game on the TV . . . Jersey Phenom!

4) we learned that the bartender who chastised us for clapping too much while "families are eating lunch" was actually mad at the kitchen for not making him a sandwich and took it out on us;

5) Friday morning Jerry, Rob and I almost played tennis (and Whitney almost almost played tennis but he forgot his racket back in Norfolk);

6) Saturday morning, we actually played tennis, and while I like tennis and Jerry, Rob and I had a good time, the real motivation was my wife's face when I packed the tennis gear . . . the face she made said: all you old guys do is sit around and drink beer and maybe wade into the water, there's no way you're going to play tennis . . . and so while tennis is fun, proving my wife wrong is priceless;

7) Brewmanji . . . a drinking game that involved a bottle cap, the top of a cardboard pizza box, and a magic marker;

8) cornhole on the beach, cornhole tournament with randomized partners, and surprise cornhole aptitude by ringer Matt Rodell . . . but we did NOT have new cornhole bags;

9) we ordered entrees as appetizers at Tortugas and cut them up tapas style . . . Bajan burger bites and Coco Loco chunks;

10) McWhinney surfed;

11) Whitney brought a bucket of music . . . a stereo system consisting of a cell-phone in a bucket;

12) Whitney, in a hungover haze on Saturday, used his bottle of Red Stripe as a condiment . . . he thought he was grabbing a bottle of hot sauce, but it was his beer, which he poured all over his fish taco . . . he said it didn't taste too bad;

13) we did not pound any deck nails but Paci fixed the shower door;

14) Rob's poison ivy was aesthetically unpleasing and did not fit the beach theme;

15) next year, everyone needs to bring a tennis racket;

16) after twenty two years at the Martha Wood cottage, we finally figured out how to use the coffee maker;

17) when I got up at 4 AM on Thursday morning to drive to Jerry's house in Arlington, and Whitney and Gormley were just going to bed in Norfolk, and it took me eleven hours to get back to Jersey on Sunday . . . there's got to be a better mode of transport to get down there . . . a boat? . . . anyway, thanks again to all in attendance, Whitney for hosting, the Martha Wood cottage for remaining, and another year of good weather.

OBFT XXII

Another fantastic Outer Banks Fishing Trip on the books . . . thanks again to Whit and the Martha Wood and everyone else involved; here are a few things that happened and some notes for OBFT XXIII:

1) Paci wore an Apple watch and used Uber to get us a ride back from Tortuga's . . . I don't know if those two things are related;

2) Jerry and T.J. shoved Dave in the back of Jerry's coupe, but then humored him by allowing him to quiz them for The Test;

3) everyone agreed that The Border Station is far better pit-stop than Southland;

4) best water ever . . . and this year Whitney lost his sunglasses in it;

5) Bruce did NOT have a new joke, but we reminisced over some old jokes;

6) we wished we had a spreadsheet of what happened on each trip so we could reminisce more accurately;

7) we did not get eaten by a shark, but Squirrel did fall down the stairs, reminding us that it's far more likely and dangerous to get hurt on the stairs than it is to lose a limb to a great white;

and some notes for next year . . .

8) next year I will DRIVE . . . I had to get from Kill Devil Hills to Sea Isle City on Sunday and it took me twelve hours . . . rode with Coby and Joe and Paci to Norfolk Airport, then to Richmond, then with Joe to DC-- where I learned a lot of cool stuff about his job-- then I caught a train from DC to Philly, then a cab to the bus station-- which was chaotic and reminded me of Syrian transport hubs-- then a Greyhound Casino Bus to Atlantic City, where Catherine had to fight through traffic to pick me up . . . and I missed every possible convenient time for every train and bus . . . and my guitar had quite an adventure and the case probably needs to be sterilized;

9) we need to bring a hammer to pound some of the protruding deck nails;

10) we need to get Whit a gift . . . new corn-hole bags;

11) the walk home on the beach from Tortuga's was excellent, but would have been even better if we had spandex and bathing suits so that we could jump in the water occasionally and then continue walking (without chafing) so we need to pack them and change in the restroom before we leave, which will make for a hysterical scene . . . especially if we all go in together;

12) we need to order entrees as appetizers at Tortuga's so everyone can have a bite of Coco Loco Chicken and the Bajan Burger;

13) Whitney can make up for poor performance on the corn-hole court if he dishes out songs from his iPod for the "movie soundtrack game," and while Marls is quite good, it would be nice if in the future Whitney plays something from "Ghostbusters";

14) if some older fraternity brothers are going to swing by, they need to do it earlier, when everyone is more coherent (preferably at 11:30 at Tortuga's, the last moment of clarity of the day for most);

15) while we were swimming in the best water ever, a few of us did our impressions of getting attacked by a shark-- this was awesome and needs to be an official OBFT event, I think if we promote it on social media, we could pull a decent crowd.

Shallow Thought #5 (Toga! Toga! Toga!)

In ancient Greece, every party was a toga party . . . and I know this is weak, even as a shallow thought, but I'm still recovering from OBFT XXII.

OBFT XXI

A light year attendance-wise for the Outer Banks Fishing Trip XXI, but no other complaints . . . the water was clear, the beer was cold, the breeze was refreshing, and the food at Tortuga's was great (even the jerk chicken and the Bajan burger) plus our friend Craig-- who couldn't make it because his children had abducted him and taken him to Storyland -- did something unprecedented . . . he took an educated guess at our whereabouts and "called in" a round of drinks to the bar; other things that happened:

1) Whitney was on a boat;

2) we listened to Lonely Island and T-Pain sing "I'm on a Boat";

3) Ian bought a keg and then passed out within the half-hour;

4) Jerry used stacks of poker chips to "write down" the phone number for the pizza place;

5) everyone had a bed, but Johnny still slept in the hammock;

6) Ian lost his expensive sunglasses in the ocean and we searched for them . . . fruitlessly;

7) Bruce told another joke;

8) it took me nearly twelve hours to get home, and during this time, I learned that Rob and Jerry do NOT dig my favorite podcast, Professor Blastoff;

9) Johnny told me I have to watch Snowpiercer and the mini-series Lonesome Dove; 

10) we gambled on corn-hole;

11) Marls tried his best to make a major work/life decision but found the OBFT not the ideal venue for this sort of thinking;

12) there was much reminiscing about past OBFTs and the consensus is that they somewhat run together in our minds, and we need a spreadsheet to remember what happened and when;

13) Jerry was the first person to ever use a cane on an OBFT . . . anyway, thanks again Whit, you and the Martha Wood delivered another great time in a long string of them.

Outer Banks Fishing Trip XX

Another successful OBFT -- this was number twenty . . . and I am twenty for twenty (as are Whitney and Rob) although I was a bit nervous about making it down there -- train tickets doubled in price and airline tickets are through the roof -- so I drove . . . which turned out to be a good move, because quite a few flights were cancelled, leading to some travel adventures for Johnny, Marls, and Zman and a record number of cars in the Martha Wood Driveway . . . some things I remember: 1) some scatological humor at Whitney's place Wednesday night 2) a new frisbee beach game named KanJam, which caused me a minor injury (bruised thumb) and Chris a major injury (deep cut on the bridge of his nose) 3) several marathon corn-hole streaks 4) a major corn-hole partner defection 5) Whitney sabotaged my blog 6) Rob's new anti-strategic poker move -- named "the betfold" -- you simultaneously bet and throw in your hand 6) good food and drink at The Old Nag's head Cafe . . . and when one member of the group (who will go unnamed) forgot to pay his bar tab, we found out what a small town Kill Devil Hills really is . . . and not to mess with the locals, who might know Bruce 7) Johnny played Cliffy in a fabulous one on one football game 8) the old guys beat the "young" guys two to one in a very short touch football game . . . and we employed the zone 9) a typical game of Pig . . . Whitney hit the trifecta -- three sets of snake-eyes, doubles 3x in a row, and landed on one hundred points exactly - and so got to reante five times in two games 10) Marls and Whitney brought back fifteen rubber sharks from Tortuga's 11) Bruce told another joke too tasteless for the internet . . . and probably a bunch of stuff I'm forgetting because I'm still tired from the trip: thanks again Whitney, and it was great to see everyone.

OBFT XIX

The 19th Annual Outer Banks Fishing Trip went off without a hitch, and a big thanks to Whitney for putting us up and putting up with us for this many years . . . here are a few things that I vaguely remember from OBFT XIX: 1) driving with a hangover while Whitney participated in a 90 minute conference call for work . . . very boring and oppressive, especially when Whitney had a bout of flatulence, and would not allow me to roll down the windows because he needed to hear 2) an innovative and scary ride home from Tortuga's for Jerry and me, thanks to Cliff 3) Whitney and I reigning for five hours in a row at corn-hole 4) waiting too long at Tortuga's and never getting to order lunch 5) cornbread and beef brisket at Taylor's Barbeque , which is just outside fo Salisbury Maryland 6) back to back pork bbq sandwiches at Southland and Pigman's, within a two hour window 7) napping on the ferry to Cape May 8) getting "shushed" at the bar 9) the best water in a long time (but no waves, I had to wait until I got up to Sea Isle City for that) 10) Bruce's fantastic joke, which cannot be repeated, even on the internet.

I Seek Wisdom From the Crowd

Several years ago, my friend Whitney and I  laid an interesting wager on a game of darts-- this was very late at night and after many beers-- and the bet was this: the winner could make the loser wear any t-shirt he chose for one day of the OBFT (as long as this t-shirt was not horribly profane, as we spend a long portion of each day at the wrap around bar in a family seafood joint) and I won the game of darts, but I have yet to "collect" on this bet, as I've never determined what t-shirt I want Whitney to wear . . . and I kind of like holding the possibility that I might show up with a ridiculous t-shirt over his head each year, but I feel it's time for Whitney to pay up and so I am going to take a page out of James Surowiecki's book The Wisdom of Crowds: Why the Many are Smarter Than the Few and How Collective Wisdom Shapes Business, Economics, Societies, and Nations and see what you have to offer . . . so Internet, I call on your wisdom, give me an idea of how I can humiliate my friend in the form of a t-shirt.

OBFT XVIII

I thought this would be the year I finally missed the annual Outer Banks Fishing Trip, but I was able to get from Cape Cod to Kill Devil Hills in a long evening of travel (and, ironically, I went from sunshine and warm water on the Cape to fog, rain, and cold water in North Carolina) and so my streak continues-- Rob, Whitney, and I are the only folks who are eighteen for eighteen-- and this usually guarantees you a bed (as we have a "bed lottery" based on how many years you have been on the trip, but without Cliff to organize the "bed lottery" it didn't happen . . . and because Jason, Craig and I showed up so late on Thursday, all the beds had been claimed and so I spent the weekend attempting to sleep on a variety of surfaces: the floor, couch cushions, under a table, a hammock, and a cot that opened like one of those cartoon bear traps) but despite the lack of sleep, it was still an excellent time; this list may only make sense to fishing trip attendees, but here are a few highlights and low-lights: 1) T.J. dealing (cards) 2) Johnny dealing with T.J.'s dealing 3) July Madness . . . I especially liked watching Whitney dutifully filling out "the notebook" while we all sat at the bar at Tortuga's 4) Saturday's staggering bill at Tortuga's 5) the "race" back from Tortuga's . . . Rob, McWhinney, Jerry, and I staggered the mile and a half home on the beach after consuming a staggering amount of food and beer . . . McWhinney runs away with it, Jerry resolutely takes second and Rob and I dog it and tie for third . . . thanks again Whit!

OBFT XVII

Highlights (and lowlights) of the Outer Banks Fishing Trip XXVII . . . worst water ever, cold and full of sea lice and jellyfish, which led to the most corn-hole playing ever, my right hamstring and back muscles actually started to get sore from tossing those beanbags . . . after a sound beating by the Bill/Whit corn-hole dynasty, Jerry and Chris go inside and Google "how to toss a corn-hole beanbag" and then return minutes later and drub the dynasty . . . Bruce a.k.a. "Windy Buttocks" gives an extemporaneous wind report off the deck of the Martha Wood . . . T.J. tries to leap the chair, although "leap" probably isn't the correct word . . . a fantastic sit-com called "T.J. and the Weave" also featuring "Jerry" . . . two guys with mustaches . . . Lacey the bartender is pregnant so we do the math (and also try to name the baby "Whitney" but she says it sounds too snobby) . . . a discussion of The Book of Mormon . . . Bruce tries to change seats at Tortuga's because of the "menu game" . . . the advent of the Tortuga's "bar crawl" and a cyber-method of persuading someone to pick them up . . . thanks again for another successful trip,Whit.

7/24/2008

Two things that I'm glad are no longer living on my body: 1) my award winning OBFT mustache -- for a look at it, visit http://gheorghe77.blogspot.com/ and scroll down a couple posts 2) my award winning OBFT jock itch, and it's too late to get a look at that, although I think the guy who cleans our gutters might have seen me applying some spray to the aggravated area, so you could always ask him about it.

Reading on the OBFT?

I was able to polish off a book and a play on the Outer Banks Fishing Trip XVI: As You Like It by Shakespeare and The Three Stigmata of Palmer Eldritch by Philip K. Dick, and despite the obvious differences-- As You Like It is a comedy and a light one (despite banishment, lions and wrestling) with plenty of funny banter, cross dressing, and trans-gender courting and The Three Stigmata is a precursor to The Matrix and Vanilla Sky and eXistenz, only trippier, with more religion and drugs and transcendence-- but they both have one thing in common, whether you're tripping in an eternal hallucination on Chew-Z or hanging out in the forest of Arden, you're doing it to escape the passage of time, the reality of your body and the status to which you are constrained-- and who doesn't want that once in a while?