June 23, 2003
Requiem
Thanks to a kind friend and her father, it was my good fortune to spend much of Saturday out on the Chesapeake Bay, perched atop the tower of the St. Jelin as she raced from Baltimore to Annapolis and back. Striking a handsome pose in my red Phillies cap and sunglasses, I waved to passing sailboats, barges, tankers, and seagulls alike; and, as the wind beat against my face, I thought, "This is the life!"
If the waters were a bit choppy, then that made it all the more exciting, the crest of each wave transmitting a jolt of energy through the vessel and directly into my soul! Gripping the frame of the tower, I cocked my head back and grinned ear to ear.
At which point an especially strong gust caught the bill of my cap like a sail, and, before I could turn around, sent my hat into the roiling waters. I watched the only memento of my final trip to Veterans Stadium grow smaller and smaller as it faded into the distance, a bright red spec against an immense field of blue.
I felt, at first, a pang of remorse. I had been cocky, even insolent, and the sea would not be denied its retribution. And was it that fierce wind, or the agony of loss, that then brought a tear to my eye? I do not know.
When my friends later learned of the events aboard the St. Jelin, they asked why I did not have the boat turned around. But by then I had made my peace with the Sea, and with my Hat.
Goodbye, Red Cap. I will never forget our time together these two months. You helped me keep warm the very day I bought you, you soaked up the sweat and kept the sun at bay when I mowed the lawn, and, most important, you proudly proclaimed to the world my loyalty to those Comeback Kids, the Philadelphia Phillies.
Do not go gentle into that good night, my friend. Be proud, and remember, I will miss you, always.
Posted by cradle at June 23, 2003 05:25 PMThis is a myth to me, since I wasn't there... But I've heard it told that once while vacationing on Lake Powell with his uncles and brothers, my father had the misfortune to loss his glasses to the lake when a strong gust of wind hit them at precisely the right angle. My dad has something like 20-11,000,000,000,000 vision without glasses, but still managed to dive in and recover them from the deep! Had you been a little quicker on the diving and jumping, you could still have your hat! A lesson to remember for next time.
Posted by: Brooke at June 24, 2003 10:49 PMDavid, I have just finished reading this entry.
I hate it when stuff like that happens, especially when I feel I've attached an unreasonable emotional value to something. Usually I try to tell myself that I still have the experience without the material reminder.
But that's a crock.
I left this hat that my dad got me in hawaii on a metro train when I was nine. I threw out a poochy doll (the girlfriend to my favorite teddy bear) in a fit of anger because I didn't want to clean my room. I broke this cool necklace that my aunt got me in Ireland when I was 13. I can't find the ring that she got me for my 16th birthday (I think my brother stole it). I got rid of a box of kid's books when I was 10 because I didn't want them anymore...
I could go on for hours.
Posted by: Mo-biddy-mo at June 27, 2003 01:34 PM