Our Day Not at the Lake

It all began with Jolene deciding that we should take Martin’s boat out to the lake last Saturday. And thus, she began her boating campaign which ultimately ended up with dragging Sharon, Martin, and me to the lake. Jolene has a New Hobby, which we shall call "tubing." Tubing, when defined, would simply be a large inflatable tube by which one is dragged around the lake on. Jolene was absolutely determined that Sharon and I should share her new love, all studying aside!

So against my better judgment, I allowed myself to be talked into going down to Nashville on Friday night so that we could purchase life jackets. It seems the life jackets in Martin’s boat were unfortunate enough to have spent the winter with the cats; they were, therefore, not fit for the human olfactory receptor. We arrived at Boater’s World around 6:30 Friday evening–and our human "chain" descended upon its interior in a quest for the perfect life jacket. They only had three long shelves of them, and it took quite some time to find the perfect fit for the perfect price. We found one for Martin that had the markings of a cobweb, which inspired an impromptu in-store rendition of his "Spider Man" routine.

Jolene selected her precious tube, we made our life jacket purchases, and we were on our way. Now it should be noted that Jolene had gone through some pretty serious trauma to even get us up to this point–better described in her own words:

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I have been begging Martin for two weeks to let me wash off & clean up his boat. He finally let me today.

He parked it in the sun for me so that I could get the advantages of the sun’s rays. It was a win-win situation. I was more than a little enthusiastic in my work, and in an hour or so, I had it all cleaned & polished. While he inspected it and tried to start it (a whole other story), I stood on stand by.

Martin asked me if I knew where some wing nut thingy was. Nope. Sure didn't, but I spotted something on the ground that could possibly be it. I bent down to pick it up and WHAM! Where the propeller came from, I have no earthly clue. Like a propeller on the back of a boat– who would have thought?? No seriously, in my intense focus on the object on the ground I guess I never saw the stupid, stupid propeller right smack in front of me. Anyways, the very sharpest and upper most part of the propeller nearly took my eye out. I literally jammed it up underneath my eyeball. Seriously. Not exaggerating at all. The pain was so excruciating, I couldn't think or talk for a second, but soon the reality didn't just sink in–it slammed in. To my utter feminine shame, I burst into sobs. Martin tried to ask me if I was ok, but all I could do was cry and walk in circles.

Finally I ran into the house to try and find my Mother's sympathetic shoulder. No mother anywhere. I found out later she had gone to the bank. So I continued to sob, and Martin came in and looked at my eye. In the midst of my crying he handed me a dry wash cloth. At the time it seemed like a good thing, but now I wonder–why a DRY WASH CLOTH??? Oh well, he did what he thought would help me at the time. Mom came home then, and she made me go to the eye doctor to make sure it would be ok. It will be. Other than swelling, a cut, sore eyeball, and the feeling of utter stupidity, I'm good! As Kris said, "Just thank God you have an eyeball left!" So thanks God! And I have learned one thing......eye lids sure shut fast!

*****
In hindsight, this could have been taken as an indication of how things were going to go. However, our ignorance, coupled with Jolene’s enthusiasm of "going tubing," kept us tarrying on.

Martin still had the task of figuring out how to start his boat, which he planned to do first thing in the morning. Sharon and I told Martin and Jolene to call us about 45 minutes before they planned to leave–but please, not too early. "The earlier, the better," they said. Great. No rest for the weary.

Martin’s trials in figuring out what the problem with his boat not starting shall not enter the scope of this post, but suffice it to say, he struggled–for hours until he thought he had the problem fixed. We finally arrived at the lake–at 11:30. Sharon and I had driven down separately so that we could leave if we decided we had had too much fun in the sun.

The launching of the boat presented yet another whole set of problems. Launching a boat makes me weak-kneed with anxiety, so Sharon and I perched ourselves on a rock on the hill and tried not to watch. That left Jolene (lover of tubing) to help Martin get the boat launched. Everything went according to plan–mostly. That is, until it came time to start the good old Sea Sprite. Martin’s Big Mistake of the day was when he lowered the propeller before ensuring the boat would start. The propeller was lowered, after which the battery promptly went up in smoke–quite literally–and the boat, of course, would not start at all. Because the propeller was down, the boat could not be pulled out of the water without damaging it. So there we were–stuck. Half in, half out!

We had a quick Huddle and decided that Sharon should drive her car down to the water’s edge (oh help), and we would try to jump the boat battery off with jumper cables. Nervous as a cat, she was, as she inched the nose of her car down the steep hill. Jolene and I kept trying to get her closer and closer and closer to the water’s edge so that we would have a better chance of the cables reaching, but she was terrified her car would drown. So at a certain point, she declared that was it! We decided to join two sets of jumper cables together in order for them to reach. This was done VERY carefully, as we feared being electrocuted, despite Martin’s assurances that it was "only 12 volts, and it won’t hurt you." Doesn’t matter. I’m of the persuasion that water and electricity should not mix... ever. Well, it worked, praise God. The boat had enough juice to get the propeller back up, and we pulled the Sea Sprite up and out.

Time was moving on, and we had to get a new battery. After more debating, we decided we would make the twenty minute drive to Glasgow so that Martin could make Advance Auto honor his battery warranty. We all hopped into Sharon’s car, and down the highway we went to Glasgow–muttering and sputtering all the way–and passing many, many battery places. Things just weren’t going the way a Day at the Lake should. We ended up sitting at AA for a good twenty minutes while Martin took care of business. Their diagnosis was that the battery was "good" and was not to be replaced. What part of "up in smoke" could they not understand? Martin ended up purchasing an extra battery, and we made our way back to the lake.

We again went through the boat launching procedure. A lesson had been learned, however, and the propeller was not lowered until AFTER the boat was started. In fact, once it was started, it was not to be turned off until we were through for the day. Sharon was saving a parking space up at the top of the hill for Martin’s truck and trailer, so he left Jolene and me there at the dock holding on to the boat with a putzy little rope. And that was no easy task. Now that the boat was started, it wanted to go...and it was all we could do to keep ahold of it. It was like holding on to an electric egg beater. I had visions of it jerking me into the water–a place I was not interested in without my precious life jacket. So we grabbed on to the side of the boat and hauled it up parallel to the boat dock and waited a miniature lifetime until Sharon and Martin appeared.

We joined Jolene’s tube in the boat (we could barely see over it), and it was not long until we were ready to nurture Jolene’s New Hobby. It had clouded over by this time, and as late as it was (2:00), there was no way it was going to be worth it for me to get into the water. I do not naturally acclimate to water–it’s better left alone, in my opinion. And we were supposed to be back home by 4:00 anyway. So I informed Jolene that today was not the day that I was going to try tubing. Sharon felt sorry enough for her that she agreed that she would at least try it. Here is Sharon’s testimonial:

***
"So Martin put the tube into the water, and Jolene put on Kris’s life jacket and got into the tube. Now this tube is a two-person tube. It has a hole into which a person’s rear is to descend and their torso and legs are to keep them from disappearing into the hole. They then demanded that I finishout the required duo on the tube. Rather than destroy Jolene’s life forever by refusing (even though I wanted to), I reluctantly put on a life jacket and attempted to get onto the tube. It was a disaster from the very beginning. I got one foot into the hole (there is no graceful way to get onto this thing) and of course with my added weight, it wanted to move, and I wasn’t strong enough to hold myself up. So I began to descend. I desperately held onto the boat and tried to get onto the tube and tried to grab onto Martin and tried to get into the tube [all at the same time]. It wasn’t working.

So here I was, half on the tube, half in the water and trying to find a firm foundation—any one would do. I REALLY didn’t want to go fully into the water, which was surprisingly warmer than I thought it would be, but still, I wasn’t prepared to be fully immersed. Martin finally grabbed the tube and got it under control, and I got up on it. I should have just abandoned ship right there and gotten back into the boat, but Jolene was so determined that I would love it that I decided to at least try it.

Martin hooked us up, and I instructed him in no uncertain terms that he should go slowly, and if I wanted to quit, there would be an immediate termination of forward motion and a rescue operation should ensue. Jolene instructed me to lean forward and hold onto the handles as Martin slowly eased the boat into motion. I was immediately unimpressed with the results. We seemed to be plowing water, and I had visions of disappearing into the depths like the aforementioned vehicle. Martin eventually got up enough speed to lift us up above the water, and I still was not impressed. .

Now Jolene had told us how sore her butt had been from her prior joy rides, but it did not prepare me for the beating that I was now privy to. Water that had mere seconds earlier been pliable was now as hard as a concrete surface scraping along my rear. After 15 to 20 seconds of that brutality, I decided that something had to happen. I stiffened my body to attempt to raise my butt a few inches, which resulted in my foot going down into a wave, which in turn resulted in a face full of water for me. Remember that I don’t like water in my face and eyes? I was suddenly blind, receiving a beating, and wanting OUT!!!

"Jolene, get me OUT of here!" I demanded. "NOW! Tell him to stop!"" Jolene was laughing but recognized the desperation in my voice. She thought that I might be crying. I wasn’t……yet. (But you know what (most) children do when they are spanked? They cry.) If it was going to last much longer, I probably could have, because it was painful! She managed to convey to Martin to stop, and with the decrease in momentum, it felt like we were going to somersault backward into the water. I mentally tried to prepare myself for the dunking……but it never came.

Martin circled around, and when I could finally peer through the water in my eyes, I could see that Kris was giggling hysterically. I wanted to pitch her into the water headfirst. She couldn’t contain her delight in my unfortunate experience, for it had (evidently) been a hilarious sight. Istill wasn’t amused, and Martin pulled the boat around where I could climb into the back. I grabbed a towel and retreated to the front of the boat where I dried off.

Kris still refused to get in, so Jolene decided to have a go at it alone. We dragged her around for a while. Kris sat in her seat occasionally glancing at me and going into gales of laughter. After a while she said, "My smile muscles are so tired! This is the funniest thing I’ve seen in awhile." Smile muscles, my foot!"

****
It really was the funniest thing. I was almost in tears I was laughing so hard. From Sharon’s wail of, "Martin, I’m not sure I even want to travel," to her stiff as a board posture in that raft... well, it was simply too much, and I was quite overcome with my own mirth. It was even funnier than all the comedy clubs I’ve never been at. I took Sharon’s dark looks at me in stride, and I was quite thankful for the foresight I had had in not taking on this new little activity. I may try it at some point, but my intuition told me that that day was simply not The Day.

And for all our troubles, we were out on the lake for about all of an hour and a half total–hardly long enough to warrant the sun screen we applied (for which Sharon had made a special trip to Wal-Mart, I might add). Unfortunately, we were more "not on the lake" than we were on it. It certainly was not the plan of our original design. I think we might need to come up with a new plan.