Post by cnot on Mar 20, 2008 21:46:06 GMT -5
It was August 1980, it was HOT! I was trapped and miserable. It was the beginning of my sight loss, I was very light sensitive and had to spend my days inside my room in the garage in Cape May Point with heavy blankets covering the windows to keep out the light, which didn't help with the heat. (Yeah, garage, I was 18 and that's where my room was, but that is another story for another time.) There wasn't a breeze. I didn't have AC, the fan moved the hot air around the room and reminded me that I couldn't hit the out side shower because my own stink was on every pass the fan made. I made one attempt, put a pillow case over my head, closed my eyes, and groped my way to the cool water of the shower. Five minutes back in the "cave" of my room, I was sweating again. I was going NUTS! It must have been a Sunday because I remember that Casey was counting the top 40 down, but don't ask me what artist was the last to hit the air on his show, I was too wrapped up in my misery....
I don't recall how I passed the rest of the day, but suffice to say it wasn't pleasant. Until........
I was laying on the bed and the curtain above my head brushed across my face... A breeze. A cool breeze..... And the sun had set..... A glance at the clock, 11:30 pm! I could go out!
I made my way to the refrigerator, opened the door and groped around inside. (My eyes were so sensitive then that I had to remove the light bulb.). It's good to have friends, there was a six of cans, someone dropped some beer off! Cool breeze, cold beer, I had high hopes as I felt in the freezer...... No bait.
I wasn't used to the blind thing then, so I wasn't organized. But, I did remember where my old tackle box was. Crap that I didn't use much. I cautiously felt around and found a plug, later discovering that it was one I had picked up at some garage sale thinking that it would be cool as a wall display, grabbed the surf rod that I was familiar with, and headed out into the night.
I kept m head down as I walked to the beach, the lights from the houses and lighthouse were brutal. But, the cool breeze and the night made any discomfort disappear.
As I crossed the dunes the breeze picked up just a tad. Glorious air coming in from Mother Ocean, cool Atlantic air. It was so wonderful. I wore only shorts, but they almost seemed too much. The sand was surrounding my bare feet in a cool blanket. The sweetness of the cool sand was too much to deny when I reached the high tide line, I sat down and pulled one of the cold cans from the bag I carried.
I drank from the can, I drank in the gentle wind off the water, I drank in the night. All of it was intoxicating.
I rose, surf pole in hand, and made a cast. Half hearted it was, my mind wasn't on the game, but more on being where I was. I worked the plug back, made another cast, starting to fall into the tempo of the waves and the night. The third cast was straight, and true, out into the darkness, beyond the white curlers, into that wonderful breeze. Things were flowing in me again. I was happy. I was doing something "natural" again. I wasn't stuck in my cave......... And then there was the tug, the set, the drag screaming off in the darkness and coolness of the night. My game was on.
I don't recall how I passed the rest of the day, but suffice to say it wasn't pleasant. Until........
I was laying on the bed and the curtain above my head brushed across my face... A breeze. A cool breeze..... And the sun had set..... A glance at the clock, 11:30 pm! I could go out!
I made my way to the refrigerator, opened the door and groped around inside. (My eyes were so sensitive then that I had to remove the light bulb.). It's good to have friends, there was a six of cans, someone dropped some beer off! Cool breeze, cold beer, I had high hopes as I felt in the freezer...... No bait.
I wasn't used to the blind thing then, so I wasn't organized. But, I did remember where my old tackle box was. Crap that I didn't use much. I cautiously felt around and found a plug, later discovering that it was one I had picked up at some garage sale thinking that it would be cool as a wall display, grabbed the surf rod that I was familiar with, and headed out into the night.
I kept m head down as I walked to the beach, the lights from the houses and lighthouse were brutal. But, the cool breeze and the night made any discomfort disappear.
As I crossed the dunes the breeze picked up just a tad. Glorious air coming in from Mother Ocean, cool Atlantic air. It was so wonderful. I wore only shorts, but they almost seemed too much. The sand was surrounding my bare feet in a cool blanket. The sweetness of the cool sand was too much to deny when I reached the high tide line, I sat down and pulled one of the cold cans from the bag I carried.
I drank from the can, I drank in the gentle wind off the water, I drank in the night. All of it was intoxicating.
I rose, surf pole in hand, and made a cast. Half hearted it was, my mind wasn't on the game, but more on being where I was. I worked the plug back, made another cast, starting to fall into the tempo of the waves and the night. The third cast was straight, and true, out into the darkness, beyond the white curlers, into that wonderful breeze. Things were flowing in me again. I was happy. I was doing something "natural" again. I wasn't stuck in my cave......... And then there was the tug, the set, the drag screaming off in the darkness and coolness of the night. My game was on.