For the second time in the past three years, I really, truly disconnected from the workaday world and spent four days and three nights paddling down the St. Croix River in northeastern Maine with friends and family. I'm not one to ascribe deep meaning to the quietude of nature, or to dig for wisdom in the vicissitudes of the wild. And so I won't.
But I will confess that the shrinking of my world to a canoe, a tent, and eight other people had a materially positive impact on my psyche. I couldn't follow the healthcare debate/bacle, even if I wanted to. I had no way of knowing if our idiot President* did something else powerfully stupid, norm-destructive, and coarsening. Couldn't follow the Red Sox, or the U.S. Men's National Team.
All I cared about was missing the next rock, getting to the campsite in time to relax, building a fire, managing our beer supply so it lasted the full trip, and cooking the shit out of some high-calorie camp grub. Oh, and watching eagles. I saw six of those majestic creatures.
Didn't see any moose, though one of our number was goaded into singing a camp song entitled, 'There Was a Moose'. There's no self-consciousness after three days of shitting in the woods, friends, so we all joined along.
In addition to camp songs, I learned a whole bunch of other things while on the river.
I learned, all at once, that SPAM is effectively the same color as a human thumb (my human thumb, at least), and that a Leatherman knife blade is really fucking sharp. Hope to be healed by the time OBFT rolls around. I've got Red Stripe bottles to grip.
I learned that an eagle in flight against a cloudless blue sky is jaw-droppingly impressive.
I learned that sardines don't taste all that bad on Town House crackers, at least while floating down a river.
Speaking of SPAM, I learned that there are times, rare though they might be, that SPAM, ground beef, Velveeta shells and cheese, and peas combine to make a deliciously rib-sticking dinner.
I learned that whispers (the sound of the bottom of a canoe gently gliding over rocks) are far better than screams.
I learned that a broken tentpole can be fixed with a shitload of duct tape.
I learned that waking up at 5:30 in the morning isn't nearly as bad when an alarm clock isn't involved.
I learned that my brother-in-law, cousin, and uncle all snore like motherfuckers.
And I learned that (or better, was reminded that) the trappings matter so much less than the company. That, my good friends, is what keeps me coming back to this humble corner of the internet.
☮
ReplyDeletelovely post (except for that spam comment, that's racist as fuck . . . did you bring "flesh colored" band-aids as well?)
ReplyDeleteI also came back from Maine with a thumb injury. It sounds so minor, but it makes the most mundane tasks maddeningly difficult. It's also my guitar picking thumb, so I'm very anxious for it to heal.
ReplyDeleteI'm an ambidextrous drinker though, so I should be fine for OBFT.
Rootsy, if you're inclined to bring an instrument to the fishing trip, it'll get more use than a rod & reel.
ReplyDelete"My picking thumb she got" sounds like a good punchline but I'm not sure of the set-up. Unlike rob I am about to go to Miami today so I can spend all day tomorrow arguing with some guy I never met over something no one really cares about. I'll get back to NJ at midnight tomorrow, in plenty of time for my 8 am Thursday flight to OBFT. Id rather be canoeing
ReplyDelete
ReplyDeleteI used to work in Chicago at the old department store
I used to work in Chicago, I don't work there any more
A lady came in for some packing tape
Some packing tape from the store....
Packing tape she wanted
My picking thumb she got
I don't work there any more
If there were a flash drive filled with "what I learned in college," it's sad to think that the highest percentage of data would be in the folder RUGBY SONGS AND HOW TO SING THEM.
ReplyDeleteZ, good luck with arguing and the air travel. I'll bring a guitar, but not sure if I'll have the ability to actually play it.
ReplyDeleteMore important than all my complaining ... a rootsy reunion! Can't wait.
ReplyDeletemy spam comment started racist as fuck, but i redeemed it with the parenthetical. i'm a work in progress, dave, you dick.
ReplyDeletewhitney, you'll be pleased to know that the image below the moose song video captures little falls, namesake of little falls road. that was our first campsite.
ReplyDelete
ReplyDeleteI will bet it was cleaner and more civilized there than at 5800 Little Falls Road when we lived there.
Nice lyrics by Whit. And to Z's point - this will be our first reunion of this millennium, I believe!
ReplyDeleteQuite possibly. When was Jordan's wedding?
ReplyDeleteThat feels like ethnocentrism vs. racism.
ReplyDeletei always liked you best, marls
ReplyDeleteToday would have been Jerry Garcia's 75th birthday.
ReplyDelete(Yes, I know he died 22 years ago and he looked 75 then.)
Happy birthday to Jerry. Have fun. Play Ripple.
I think it's actually anthropomorphism. Or maybe just a simile. Too bad we don't have an English teacher around here.
ReplyDeleteRob - no fishing on this Maine trip of yours?
ReplyDeleteLooking at all the beautiful people in the airport I pondered "why didnt you go to school in Miami?" but then I went outside and said "oh right it's humid as hell."
ReplyDeletethere was fishing, danimal. we caught a bunch of smallmouth bass, some chub (get your mind out of the gutter, tr), and some pickerel. had an adventure with a snapping turtle, too.
ReplyDeleteStep off, Rob.
ReplyDeleteJust saw a Best Buy commercial. With Shortyville by Trombone Shorty playing. Not sure how I feel about that, but he deserves a paycheck as much as anybody, I guess.
ReplyDelete