By lex, on September 22nd, 2011
Home, sweet home.
Perceptive readers will not that the R1150GS needs no kickstand to remain erect. Which is on account of the fact that your host got her rear wheel hopelessly buried in what ended up being, fine, soft sand. To the extent which he had to solicit the assistance of two nearby chief petty officers who were lodging at a nearby cabin, good men themselves, and never mind the personal humiliation in it.
In recompense, they were awarded a six pack of Bud Light. Which they asked for, when asked what kind of beer they preferred, if in fact they took a drop at all.
Strong backs, sharp minds, faithfulness to their duty. Honor, courage and commitment.
But there’s no accounting for taste.
A quiet night, no sounds at all but the crashing of the waves on the beach and the occasional cry of a gull. I had my fully charged iPad, and was quite prepared to read a little more of Mark Steyn’s “After America,” in which hizzoner is in fine fettle. In the chapter about education just now, and, well: Wow. I’m not up to the part yet where I read his recommendations. I’m gatheringly concerned, having read the first few chapters, that he doesn’t have any.
And then I was going to watch an episode of the new Breaking Bad season. But I didn’t. I just sat there for a while, soaking in the silence and solitude. Surrounded by few things, which felt strangely liberating. We spend our lifetimes amassing comforts and pleasures, and often forget that in their getting are we also gotten. The things we own end up owning us instead.
I’m not saying that I’m ready to get off the grid entirely. But it does feel good to disconnect from time to time.
And it had been too long.