SELF-DEPRICATION

 Yes, self-deprication.  If you've stopped laughing at me over last Friday's admission, here is more fodder  to get you going again.  

Last weekend, I had a great time at a lake with five friends.  They were all younger - some 15, some 20, some 40 and one 50 years my junior.  The intention was water sports, cards, ping-pong and more.  Of course, with a schedule like this, one needed to be well hydrated or lubricated or numb.  It all goes together.

Water sports were the main events; jumping off the deck 10' above the boat dock, riding a wave runner at breakneck speed through the highest waves you could find, hanging onto an inflated area rug pulled by our boat, jumping off a bridge some 30' over the water, wakeboarding behind the boat, skiing, and single ski slalom style.  Quite an array of things we did.  Not everyone did all of that.  Some did this and some did that.  I did none of it.

I was way out of my element.  The most strenuous thing I did was try to climb back into the boat.  Those little ladders they put on boats are not made for 76 year-old people about 76 pounds overweight.  I'm embarrassed to tell all the details. Just because you can press 175 doesn't mean you can pull 255 up a ladder.

The boat was awesome.  It traveled some 50 mph.  We were inclined to run it full speed whenever we did anything especially in the black of night when no one else was on the water.  The breeze felt great.  We had classic rock blaring at ear-cracking decibels.  I loved it.  

When asked if I wanted to participate, my mind wondered back into my past - I had visions of myself doing these things in a distant era.  There really was a day when I did those things.  The gentleman that I am, I let the young guys do the water sports.  

There's so much more to report but I'd better not.  I'll stick to an epitaph you often hear about Las Vegas; "What happens at the lake, stays . . . "

🛥