In which the Keelhauler gets cabin fever

Any day you wake up and don't see a tornado, is a good one. Today was such a day, although I can't say the same for yesterday. Well, to be fair, it was a "water spout," and to be further fair, I didn't technically "SEE" it, but you know, the news said there was one, and my editorial policy remains: If the TV said it, I'll repeat it as truth!

Anyway, there were mudslides and torrents of rain and road closures which led to my tragic inability to drive to work. It is a sad situation, stretching to today, and I hope that someone out there is right now forming a 3,000-person brigade to stand in the shape of a giant heart or umbrella or something, which will then be photographed and sent to me, so I'll know that they care. (Thank you! Whoever you are!)

I'm having difficulty writing today for reasons unrelated to the rain or the mud; the Keelhauler has been home for a week, and is bouncing off the walls with cabin fever. He is very happy to have me as a captive audience, and has enacted for my benefit: Lionel Richie playing "Easy" on keyboards; Frank Black singing "Wave of Mutilation"; and Jonathan Richman imitating Bob Dylan. I got him an iPod for Christmas, and he's insisting that I load all our CDs into it, dancing around (at the moment) to Mike Nesmith, yelling joyfully, "Buddy! Do you want to stay home with me every day!!!?"

Which leads me to another point: I asked the Keelhauler to come up with a good, affectionate nickname for me, envisioning something sweet and personal that simultaneously highlights my gentle temperament and rockin' body. He thought for one second and said cheerfully, "Buddy."

Naturally, because I objected to it, the name stuck, and so now I am known by a nickname that calls to mind a lop-eared mutt wearing a red bandana and a comical grin.

I can see outside, through the hatch, that clouds are rolling in again. It doesn't mean a lot to me, here on the boat, except for a gentle rolling and the sound of halyards clanging, but I know that up the coast, where the big slides happened, rescue workers are digging through piles of debris, eyeing the sky and hoping the rain holds off just a little longer. It's not often that I feel actively fortunate to live on the boat, but these past few days of storms, I have loved our floating shelter, full of music and cheerful noise.



Star of the day. . .The Keelhauler
posted @ 3:05 p.m. on 01.11.05 before | after

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She lay awake all night,

zzzzzzzzzzz......