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Saturday
March 20, 2010 Since 1922 |
Water, water everywhere
By Luke Hales
Or not.
Anyway …
I did something this weekend I hadn’t done in over a decade. I got a call from a friend of mine who told me a group of folks were heading to New Braunfels the next day to go to Schliterbahn (a gigantic water park, for those who don’t know). Of course, I jumped at the chance to go, and sure enough, bright and early the next morning we set out for the Hill Country.
Wait … allow me to revise. I had been at work until 1 a.m. the day before, and made the decision that, since we were leaving at 7 a.m., I should probably just not go to sleep, since I knew I’d miss the alarm. I do that; it can be right by my head and it won’t register. Usually I just incorporate it into whatever dream I’m having at the moment. That makes for some weird plot twists.
Okay, so I drag my delirious self into the car and head to the takeoff point. At this moment I am bleary-eyed and kind of staggering, so the “bright and early” bit really just meant I was squinting at any light source in my vicinity.
Then we get a phone call from a member of our party who said they had missed the alarm (See? It’s not just me) and would be “a little bit late.” Cool, I thought. No problem. We’ll hit the road and be on our way shortly.
It took another hour and a half before the tires rolled. Had I known this would have occurred, maybe I would have slept for a while, but 20/20 hindsight and all …
We stopped to collect the rest of the crew at their apartment in Houston. Once this occurred, I crawled into the back seat and promptly lost consciousness.
I didn’t wake up until we got to our breakfast stop: Chick-Fil-A. Ah, the beauty of chicken for breakfast. I am puzzled, however, by the menu. When asked what he would be eating, one of the crew said, “I’ll be eating the whole family.”
Huh?
Then it occurred to me that they offer a chicken and egg biscuit there. Didn’t even think of that until just then, and to be honest I’m still not sure how I feel about it. That’s my issue though. Don’t judge.
I should also mention that everywhere I went that day I had on sunglasses. See, last week (This is kind of gross. You’ve been warned) I got sick. I’m pretty sure I had Swine Flu, but there were no pigs to verify it. Either way, I was taken by surprise by a sudden, urgent need to release my breakfast back into the wild. Now, when I (I told you. Last chance.) vomit, I break capillaries in my face, because when I do it, I give it 110 percent. This time, however, I was so surprised that I did this with my eyes open.
You oughta see them. I look like I’m possessed.
Anyway, for the benefit of all those around me I wore shades all day, inside, outside, at night, all the time. So when I walked in to the eatery, someone said, “Wow, Luke. You kind of look like a rock star. A hung-over rock star.”
Thanks. I appreciate it. I’ll remember that next time you have the sniffles.
Then later someone said I looked like Hunter S. Thompson.
Okay, that’s pushing it, but he was a good writer, so …
Fast-forward two hours, and there we are. Like I said, I hadn’t been to a water park in years, so I was kind of excited to go as an adult. Yet, at the same time, I knew I would be stretching my comfort zone to its’ limits.
See, I’ve got some odd little neuroses, and several of them apply to water parks. It’s weird, I know, but they’re mine, okay? I don’t make fun of you for not liking clowns or heights or Ann Coulter.
Actually, she scares me too.
But anyway, I don’t like big crowds. Moreover, I don’t like big half-naked crowds. More specifically, I don’t like big, half-naked, sweaty crowds. And above all else, I don’t like sitting in puddles that dripped off of someone else’s body. You know what I’m talking about. It’s like sitting in a chair that someone else just got up from, and it’s still warm.
Ick.
Either way, I managed to control my angst and actually have a pretty decent day. There was a nice breeze, it wasn’t crowded, and I was among good friends. Not much else you can ask for, really.
I didn’t even realize how much I’d missed that place. It rekindled a lot of that excitement I’d felt when we took vacations there in my youth. I felt like a kid again in many ways, seeing the place with a sense of wonderment and awe I hadn’t felt for anything in quite some time. Sometimes it’s good to tap into that part of our brains, where the kid still lives.
In the meantime, if you see me with my shades on, don’t ask to see my eyes. Especially if you’re around small children. That’s a memory you don’t want them keeping.
Luke Hales is the assistant managing editor for The Baytown Sun.
Or not.
Anyway …
I did something this weekend I hadn’t done in over a decade. I got a call from a friend of mine who told me a group of folks were heading to New Braunfels the next day to go to Schliterbahn (a gigantic water park, for those who don’t know). Of course, I jumped at the chance to go, and sure enough, bright and early the next morning we set out for the Hill Country.
Wait … allow me to revise. I had been at work until 1 a.m. the day before, and made the decision that, since we were leaving at 7 a.m., I should probably just not go to sleep, since I knew I’d miss the alarm. I do that; it can be right by my head and it won’t register. Usually I just incorporate it into whatever dream I’m having at the moment. That makes for some weird plot twists.
Okay, so I drag my delirious self into the car and head to the takeoff point. At this moment I am bleary-eyed and kind of staggering, so the “bright and early” bit really just meant I was squinting at any light source in my vicinity.
Then we get a phone call from a member of our party who said they had missed the alarm (See? It’s not just me) and would be “a little bit late.” Cool, I thought. No problem. We’ll hit the road and be on our way shortly.
It took another hour and a half before the tires rolled. Had I known this would have occurred, maybe I would have slept for a while, but 20/20 hindsight and all …
We stopped to collect the rest of the crew at their apartment in Houston. Once this occurred, I crawled into the back seat and promptly lost consciousness.
I didn’t wake up until we got to our breakfast stop: Chick-Fil-A. Ah, the beauty of chicken for breakfast. I am puzzled, however, by the menu. When asked what he would be eating, one of the crew said, “I’ll be eating the whole family.”
Huh?
Then it occurred to me that they offer a chicken and egg biscuit there. Didn’t even think of that until just then, and to be honest I’m still not sure how I feel about it. That’s my issue though. Don’t judge.
I should also mention that everywhere I went that day I had on sunglasses. See, last week (This is kind of gross. You’ve been warned) I got sick. I’m pretty sure I had Swine Flu, but there were no pigs to verify it. Either way, I was taken by surprise by a sudden, urgent need to release my breakfast back into the wild. Now, when I (I told you. Last chance.) vomit, I break capillaries in my face, because when I do it, I give it 110 percent. This time, however, I was so surprised that I did this with my eyes open.
You oughta see them. I look like I’m possessed.
Anyway, for the benefit of all those around me I wore shades all day, inside, outside, at night, all the time. So when I walked in to the eatery, someone said, “Wow, Luke. You kind of look like a rock star. A hung-over rock star.”
Thanks. I appreciate it. I’ll remember that next time you have the sniffles.
Then later someone said I looked like Hunter S. Thompson.
Okay, that’s pushing it, but he was a good writer, so …
Fast-forward two hours, and there we are. Like I said, I hadn’t been to a water park in years, so I was kind of excited to go as an adult. Yet, at the same time, I knew I would be stretching my comfort zone to its’ limits.
See, I’ve got some odd little neuroses, and several of them apply to water parks. It’s weird, I know, but they’re mine, okay? I don’t make fun of you for not liking clowns or heights or Ann Coulter.
Actually, she scares me too.
But anyway, I don’t like big crowds. Moreover, I don’t like big half-naked crowds. More specifically, I don’t like big, half-naked, sweaty crowds. And above all else, I don’t like sitting in puddles that dripped off of someone else’s body. You know what I’m talking about. It’s like sitting in a chair that someone else just got up from, and it’s still warm.
Ick.
Either way, I managed to control my angst and actually have a pretty decent day. There was a nice breeze, it wasn’t crowded, and I was among good friends. Not much else you can ask for, really.
I didn’t even realize how much I’d missed that place. It rekindled a lot of that excitement I’d felt when we took vacations there in my youth. I felt like a kid again in many ways, seeing the place with a sense of wonderment and awe I hadn’t felt for anything in quite some time. Sometimes it’s good to tap into that part of our brains, where the kid still lives.
In the meantime, if you see me with my shades on, don’t ask to see my eyes. Especially if you’re around small children. That’s a memory you don’t want them keeping.
Luke Hales is the assistant managing editor for The Baytown Sun.