I watched this pelican for awhile this morning thinking that he was analogous of my weekend. He spent himself over and over trying to beat into the waves and get out to sea and I had beat myself against a wall trying to make things happen the way I wanted them to happen. 

I mentioned the connection to my bride tonight and she was characteristically sympathetic with my pussiness. Carol’s optimism is rash-like. (Her feelings on things are included in parenthesis)

It all started on Saturday morning. We were finishing the process of morphing our sailboat into a new(er) car for Carol and I honestly thought we could go to CARMAX and come home with her car. Wrongo. There was a glitch in the title stuff and we had to wait until Monday to pick it up. (Waaah, Oceandoggy has to wait for his new car.)

So I came home thinking I would go up to the beach with a book and a cold six-pack. No way Jose’. We had  a party to go to. (Waaah, Oceandoggy has to go to a party. And have fun. And drink beer.)

Sunday dawned and I wanted to take Carol and the dogs out on the boat. We got everything loaded and were all ready to go when the recurring water pump problem re-surfaced. I sat, staring at the outboard motor that hates me, grinding my teeth. (Waaah, Oceandoggy can’t go for a boat ride.)

So we went home and I thought I would go fishing on the beach. It had been warm and beautiful all morning. I packed up bait and lures and poles and beer and walked up to the beach. Thirty minutes later the wind had shifted and gotten cold and an annoying woman had stopped to talk to me about her life. (Waaah, Oceandoggy can’t fish)

I went back home thinking I’d watch the Redskins. HAHAHAHAHA homeboy, they’re playing on Monday Night Football. (Waaah, no football)

In despair, I figured I would go up on the deck, drink a beer and read a book. No such luck. Clouds had moved in and the wind was howling. (Waaah)

Finally, I just drank myself silly, feeling sorry for opportunities lost.

Then I watched that sad pelican, forlornly fighting for his life this morning and realized how little my little shit matters in the big scheme of things. 

I’m a lucky guy.

One response to “Thwarted.

  1. As always…a delight. A life lived from a different point of view. Glad we could “thwart” your efforts! We are lucky to call you friend!

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