Bring a Change of Underwear

It all started with a tweet. I was sitting on the edge of the dock, trying to decide if I should go up to the house, or just remain amicably with my cold cup of coffee. It was early and this was only my second cup. I was lingering with the uniqueness of a cool morning, contemplating the meaning of life, when I remembered a funny quote I caught on twitter. Of course I had my cell phone with me so I quickly browsed a dozen tweets before I found it. I realize the decline of society mimics the accent of the cell phone but we really need to move on. It said, “I hate to admit that the best advice on life came from my mother, “Get outside, eat more fish, don’t smoke.”  I know the best advice on parenting came when my two-year old was throwing a tantrum and my sister said, “Just pretend you’re the babysitter.” And I do love Woody Allen’s advice on dying, “I don’t believe in an afterlife, although I’m bringing a change of underwear.” Maybe I’ll tweet that.

I suppose I  could be a bit more receptive to the nuggets of wisdom gleaned from the less refined, like Kim Kardashian, who just shared a completely naked selfie to prove her pregnancy. I think the only thing we can learn from this is you really don’t need a selfie stick. (What would Woody Allen advise?) Or the other day when I was comparing sun screens at Target, a young woman covered in tattoos walked up, and took the bottle right out of my hand. She handed me another one saying, “This is better for aging skin.” When my manners finally kicked in I sputtered, “thank you.” She smiled and explained how tender her skin is after a new tattoo and she has learned what creams work best for damaged tissue. I think I love her.
My cup is empty and I am about to leave when a boat full of fishermen arrive (apparently the fish are plentiful around our dock).  I don’t want to appear rude, so I stay put, even though I realize they did not boat over to see me. Regardless, I sit there observing them like a baby sitter, because I seriously do not understand the appeal of fishing. It’s a catch and release lake. You fish, take an iPhone pic, tweet it, and release. It seems astoundingly boring to me. The four guys are pretty quiet, all dangling separate lines in the water, they seem unaware of my presence or they are just ignoring me. After a few minutes one guy starts yelling, “I got one.” His buddy says, “Don’t give it any slack.” The third guy, “It’s a big one.” Guy with the fish, “Get the net,” and then a few seconds later, “Damn, it snapped me off.” Fourth guy, “One more cast and we’ll head.” Guy that lost the fish says, “That’s why they call it fishing.” I tilt my mug to the fishermen and concede every one of their comments is applicable to my life. I spend my days trying to hook ideas, I work tirelessly on every nibble, I always think it’s the “big” one, when it gets close I try to net it, but more often than not it slips away. Now I say fish on.

I have no adequate conclusion for this blog. When the fishermen leave I notice the smoke from the fires raging all around the lake. I think it started from a cigarette butt. I worry what the skin of the earth will look like when the fires are doused, no doubt she’ll be left with heinous scars, and I do not know of any creams that can soothe the earths’ damaged crust (where’s tattoo lady when you need her). Smokey the bear says, “Only you can prevent forest fires.” Which brings me back to the original tweet from a mom, “Get outside, eat more fish, don’t smoke.” And grab some extra underwear in case you run into Kim Kardashian.

Check out this cute video on fishermen.
Cute tweets? Share in the comments.

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