NOTE: This was a personal email to Friend Fred Meyers who among many accomplishments wrote and published cruising guides on the Tombigbee, Tennessee, and the Cumberland Rivers. This personal email during construction morphed into whatever it is now. I am sorry Fred, but it simply took off, got out of control and took a hard jog to avoided sublime and ensure the ridiculous. You of all people should understand how this can happen and how it blindly takes us to unknown spaces.
Dear Editor Fred,
How are you my friend? How good to read from you. You’re right, I have not been writing on the book as diligently as we had previously discussed.
Soon, I hope, writing chapters instead of stuffing the email eggplant with filler will be the order of the morning. You are correct, Baltimore pirating with all the pretty horses is a massive distraction. Course the Bahamas has its own way of claiming attention. I now understand and pity the child with Attention Deficit Disorder.
(a few minute pause thinking about how one might get distracted)
I was just consulting my personal A.D.D. inside me where it resides, roams freely and continues to be an acquaintance of mine. I have concluded there is a positive side of A.D.D. and upon a more intimate review, I discovered some odd yet undeniable facts. When you spend a little time on it, there may be more good than bad, and have you ever noticed it is only males who are so categorized. Wow. I think I’m on to something here. If a male child cannot stay focused and on task for very long he may be considered having a deficit condition. If it is a young girl the behavior is defined as a primary learning tool for a lifelong adventure in multi-tasking. If male and in your sixties and exhibit the same behavior your retired and having way too much fun or as Lynn likes to explain it about me , “…he has simply failed to grow-up…”. Adult women mask the scourge of flight hither and yon by insisting: “well, someone has to do the work around here”. How do they get away with that stuff? Oh, yeah, I temporarily lost my senses, women are always right. How could I have forgotten?
I submit to you that A.D.D. is an excellent development tool that sets up young men to be aggressively curious and causes them to stick their fingers in so many pies that sooner or later they will pull out a plum they find so delicious they decide to mine that fruit for all its worth.
In fact I bet that is how you got to be my editor and I am happy for your opportunity to bake up a sinfully good experience for all to sample. A collection of musings hot and sweet yet hints of tartness with full-bodied taste on the front end that slims to a fairly light aftertaste drawing you back to the fruit for another taste. (Barf, I’m gagging)
Because of the delicacy of this half-baked wonder, you could not possibly abuse this fruit by canning it, could you now?
Oh, by the way, did I tell you about the Conch Salad they have here? Today’s adventure will be searching not for the lost shaker of salt, although that is a continuing theme, but seeking the perfectly shaped full-lipped conch with color shading to a ruddy pink interior. Fortunately Conch do not, as a rule, have A.D.D. Can’t you just imagine this huge snail hauling his conch butt across the Sea of Abaco with this big sand trail rooster tailing up behind him or streaking through the sea grass on the bottom with his tail on fire, flames streaming behind him or would it only be steam?
Soon as we find the conch, mon, we be off seeking the big bug lobster. Not sure when, but I promise to send you the next chapter real soon. Hey, look. Is that a school of snapper hanging under the boat? Editor Dude, I got to go, there are things that need doing.
Bones
