Hey, girls�are you in the market for a new boyfriend? I have a great offer for you: you can have mine. Free of charge! Immediately. And although the Keelhauler is not gay, I would be willing to turn him over to any interested guy, as well. Maybe he could do chores (although I wouldn�t count on it).

The Keelhauler made a new friend, someone on his work boat, a guy named Jim. He described Jim to me as Ricky, but without the [something]. I don�t remember what the something was�without the manic-depression, without the chronic alcoholism, without the propensity to quote fifteen-minute sections of Monty Python and the Holy Grail, it really didn�t matter, because even without one of those irritating qualities, Ricky is still the most annoying person I have ever met. Needless to say, I don�t have a lot of hope for Jim. �He�s not a hoodlum,� said the Keelhauler, which I instantly disbelieved. Yesterday, Jim came to town so that the Keelhauler could look at a boat Jim wants to buy, to advise him on whether it would be a good purchase.

The Keelhauler reminded me yesterday that he wanted to see �Walk the Line,� and asked me to rent it. It was an ordinary conversation�we planned to cook dinner, watch a movie, discuss what we need to take care of before an upcoming sail to Catalina. Except then, the Keelhauler, as he is prone to do, took a flyer. I next heard from him late in the day, when he and Jim were having drinks at the shittiest restaurant bar in the harbor. I got a familiar feeling of dread, knowing that he was going to, once again, take off, turn off his phone, and disappear for the night. Which of course is exactly what he did.

I heard from him just before he went to dinner, and asked him if he would tell me what time he might be home. �Well�� he hedged, �Jim�s taking me to dinner to thank me for looking at the boat.� He couldn�t say when he�d be home�couldn�t even give me a window of time�and when I called again at 10:30, his phone had been shut off. So much for dinner and a movie. So much for talking about Catalina. So much for anything but his being an irresponsible jackass, really, with a bunch of hoodlum friends who think it�s amusing to think of women as vague authority figures whose grasp must be avoided at all costs. You go, guys! Keep that rebel spirit alive!

So, I went to bed and turned off my phone, feeling a familiar pit in my stomach. The giant orange cats I am taking care of curled up on the bed next to me, occasionally squabbling for space.

When I woke up, with just one of the orange cats in the bed, I had a couple of missed calls and a text message reading �Buddy!� sent at 1:00 in the morning. I�m not feeling much like anyone�s �buddy� at this point, especially not his.

Star of the day. . .Buck Owens