My wife, the kind-hearted soul she is, found a dog near our house that nobody seems to want to own.
He’s very cute with coarse, wiry hair and a good demeanor. We’ve been calling him Rusty, Tramp and Brillo but he’ll pretty much come to anyone who calls, no matter what they call.
We’d keep him but we’ve already got two dogs and a cat.
So, if you’re in Nashville and looking for a great pet, let me know: email @ digitalhooligans.com
About a week ago my father and I decided to put our motorcycles on a trailer and take them with us to North Carolina. We chatted briefly, but with high-spirits, that the riding along the coast would be something quite extraordinary. Separately we must have envisioned long stretches of open views, waves lapping the sand and a winding trail…but neither of us had any experience at the Outer Banks nor, it seemed, looked at a map of the road there.
So, we fought, pulled, cursed, sweated, cursed more and managed to put his Kawasaki Nomad 1500 and my Honda ST1300 on a *very* small trailer. While physically a very strong trailer the width was not meant for hauling two of these bikes side by side. Every bag, top box and (in the case of the ST) mirror cowling had to come off in order to make them fit. Though we were careful not to scratch any paint or chrome the left mirror on my ST was folded beyond its breaking point and shattered.
After loading the bikes we had no room for our saddle bags or extra bike parts or gear. Knowing the possibility of new roads was ahead, we trailer’ed off and found ourselves in Southern Shores, NC some 13+ hours later.
(cue time lapse music – make it swell but leave it running low in the background…)
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…out on the open ocean (nearly seasick for the first 2 hours) fishing for the mighty behemoths of the deep. We managed, my brother, sister-in-law, Sheila, mother and me to nab 20+ respectably-sized fish. Starting out at 5:15 this morning and returning home at the roughly same time in the PM makes for a *very* long day.
Along the way we found out that my father is *definitly* a ‘landlubber’ and not all first mates and captains of small fishing boats look like Gilligan and the Skipper. In fact, we found the Captain (Pat) and first mate (Nick) pretty enjoyable company. Though, I would strongly suggest Nick should leave the navigating to the Capt’n.
The fish in the picture is a Black Sea Bass (male for those who care…you can tell by the knot on the top of the head). The fillets from it and a few more are in my ice chest right now awaiting a grilling when I return home.
Thanks to my brother for forging the path for us to charter a boat. This won’t be a birthday I will soon forget.
(why do I feel like Doogie Howser posting this entry?)
