Caution: Craziness Ahead

My mother raised a fool. Oh, in all fairness to her (and to me), not your common blathering idiot with beads of drool tumbling down his chin, but a fool nonetheless. You see, I am prone to a steady stream of cockamamie ideas that for some reason I am often powerless to abort before they develop into full-blown, real-life manifestations with formidable momentum. Starting an electric bus company, a smoothie & coffee bar, and planting a vineyard are but a few examples that immediately come to mind.

The latest intrusive thought that I can’t seem to shake involves buying a boat and learning how to sail it. But it doesn’t end there. Sure, I’d start with reasonable objectives like becoming proficient at handling the boat in the environs of the Santa Barbara coast, and then progressing to day trips (and eventually overnighters) to the Santa Barbara Channel Islands. After that is mastered, an excursion down the Mexican coast would ensue, and ultimately . . . blue water sailing and a tour of the South Pacific. Pretty heady plans for a guy that hates to sail, no?

Now, part of this concept involves getting my beautiful African American girlfriend onboard, literally and figuratively. This will be a challenge as she can’t swim and is quick to remind me that her people’s first foray into transoceanic voyages didn’t turn out so well. Adding to the fun of a two-person crew in the middle of the Pacific is a captain with a golf ball-sized tumor in his heart that could render him dead before his sailor hat hit the deck. Talk about excitement!

I’m doing my best to beat down this notion before it develops legs. I keep focusing on how much I hate sailing. And on my chemo treatment schedule. And on my susceptibility to motion sickness. And on how I hate to be wet and cold. And on . . . what a romantic concept!!!