The New Sunday

The New Sunday

My general late night weekend finale consists of the following:

1. A nostalgic run down of the weekend’s adventures.
2. A brief moment of sadness as I realize that Monday draws very near

3. A nightcap to assist Mr. Sandman with his duties.

I spent the last twenty minutes yesterday evening lying in bed and recounting the day’s events. My arms and legs where exhausted and my face a little sun burnt from a fantastic day spent outside. It was a day full of activities and witty banter with a very special new friend. For privacy sake, and the opportunity to use an inside joke… I’ll just call her lady Marmalade.

I was introduced to the lovely Lady Marmalade through a mutual acquaintance. I was a little nervous leading up to our first rendezvous but that was all laid to rest within five minutes of conversation. I have a strange tendency when meeting someone for the first time to find similarities they share with Hollywood’s best. LM could easily rival James Dean’s opposite in Rebel Without a Cause. Natalie Wood and LM both share a smile that could stop an army, a constellation of perfectly placed freckles and eyes that are so breathtaking you’ll find yourself renting and rewinding in a desperate attempt to relive the moment when your view first met hers. With Charlie Parker pushing us along we uncovered quite a few similarities of our own, a few of which seemed especially appropriate; a love for jazz, the water and an addiction neither of us could seem to kick…cheese and crackers. So, there we were…sitting on the back deck of her boat snacking away and listening to the Yard bird Suite.

It was a beautiful Sunday afternoon out on the water and the sun beat down on our feet as they peeked out from underneath the aft covering. As we watched a man and women paddle across the horizon, commanding a pair of stand up paddle boards, LM shared with me that it was a somewhat regular experience for her to gaze lustfully at this couple on Sunday afternoons. As much as she admired the couple she also mentioned that she had never tried paddle boarding. I proclaimed that it was time we rid ourselves of this horrible addiction to triscuits and white cheddar…“let’s go for a paddle!” I told her that I happen to know a place in Seattle where one can rent said paddle boards.

In no time at all we were suited up and out on the water. We struggled at first to keep our balance but eventually grew confident with our abilities. We took turns leading the way and pointing out things that caught our eye both under the water and atop the cliff lining of the Puget Sound. Our updated version of the afternoon stroll was not without its trials and tribulations however…at one point we did have a minor collision which resulted in us toppling over in to the water. Shortly after the fender bender I was informed that I had fallen victim to an impromptu game of Battleship and that I had in fact lost. We eventually worked our way back toward the marina and spent about 15 minutes lazily anchored atop our boards staring back at the boat where our journey began.

There is something to be said for conversations transpired while drifting in the aquatic. I’ve certainly had some interesting topics come up during surf sessions with friends, most of which took place staring back at the coast we first swam away from only hours ago. So much can happen in just a few hours at sea.

After drying off and LM reminding me three or four times that she was the victor at Battleship we took our story full circle and positioned ourselves on the boat’s loveseat accompanied by two glasses of red wine and Ella Fitzgerald. The conversation was rife with topics ranging from oversea travels to risqué movie theater hi jinx. LM suggested that I share the day’s events in my online journal. This brought up a question that I have been asking myself ever since the original idea of a blog came up, “What is appropriate to share and what is best kept behind closed doors?” Well, I think so far it’s safe to say that I have kept my chivalry intact…for all you know the evening stopped there; I finished up my glass of wine, kissed her on the cheek and I went on my merry way.
But then where did that inside joke come from…?


“There are many persons who look on Sunday as a sponge to wipe out the sins of the week”
– Henry Ward Beecher

“…the rest of us prefer to tack a few more on”
– Smith Curren