TFIF

The weekend is here. A somewhat long weekend at that. Freedom from work. Collective Yeah Baby!!!! Scott's cottage awaits for a bit of relaxation by the crystal waters of Lake Annis, no motorized traffic, peaceful bliss and us two knobs. Perfecto.

An escape from the every day grind if you will. Willie will probably join us and good times shall be had, our version of them of course. Times have changed from yesteryear and these kinds of escapes. Be it Bide a Wee cottage at Wasaga Beach, Dave's cottage after graduation, ice fishing near Barrie or sunfish fishing on Rice Lake, good times with good friends and libations enough for all were all we needed. These days debauched behaviour being replaced with observations on daily life and our take on everything from ex wives to religion to politics and farts. Oh, and a little debauchery I'm sure.

Looking back at those epic escapes during what could be charitably called my formative years I am left with a couple of thoughts, brief as they may be. Number one, why am I still alive? Number two, could I do it again knowing what I know today? No kidding, there were a number of occasions that death was a distinct possibility. Swimming across a fast moving river to save a half hour walk to all the action on Wasaga beach would be a perfect example. To our credit we didn't drink and drive but somehow swimming was OK. Fuck we were stupid.

I worked at a golf club a few years back, a sweet little gig that afforded me the opportunity to golf a lot and even work some. What I found shocking was the incredibly bad behaviour that a lot of people displayed the second they got out of their cars for their rounds. Now that's saying something coming from me. I mean it was embarrassing to watch some of these clowns and their total lack of social grace as soon as green grass was at their feet and a club was in their hand...simply horrible. That's the best way to describe us when we got to any "off site" venue for our own amusement. We literally exploded from our cars when we arrived at our place of refuge. In scenes that could be best visualized as watching the cartoon Tasmanian Devil we were a combination of pent up energy, testosterone and angst. Where we went, trouble would surely follow....our vortex of stupidity being fuelled by all manner of combustibles.

Could I do it again? Fuck yeah!!! Probably have even more fun.

For better or for worse those days have been replaced with a mellower version, a kinder gentler but no less fun experience.

I'm out of here chicos and chicanas.

Ciao
D