Lessons

Last weekend, I learned about six valuable lessons although I have already forgotten three or four of them. That's the thing about living in the country, it brings out the younger you, it makes you want to actually do some things that you had convinced yourself you were too old to do anymore. Not only living in the country, but living in the country on a lake really stirs that part of the old brain that has pretty much just been used for storage for the last twenty years.

A good example of the revitalization the country and the lake brought to Amber and I would be the unexplainable urge to buy a Jet Ski. Here I am 66 years of age (Amber's age is less than that), never even been on a Jet Ski and we go buy one. We brought the Jet Ski home, and proceeded to teach each other how to operate it. It was probably an amusing sight, seeing two old folks (one a lot older than the other) chugging around the lake, occasionally stopping out in the middle of the lake to swap drivers and managing to do it without falling in the water. I think I've seen circus acts involving bears riding bicycles that probably resembled us swapping ends of the Jet Ski. We both finally got pretty comfortable operating the thing, other than Amber was a little concerned about coming in for a landing at the pier. She suggested that I build a sandy beach next to the pier where she could just run the Jet Ski up on the sand like they do in the movies.

Well, I guess I better get back to the lessons I learned last weekend before I forget them all. It all started when my neighbors, Diane and Fred, brought their Jet Ski to the lake for the weekend. Now Diane is a young gal compared to Fred and Fred is a younger guy when compared to me but it's been a long time since any of us were in high school. Of course I couldn't wait to get my (our) Jet Ski out and run and play with Fred. So, Fred and I took off on our Jet Skis, zipping across the water, not really racing, but neither wanting to let the other pass. As we reached one end of the lake, slowed and began making our turn, the dock rope laying under my foot, slipped into the water and just as it disappearing into the water the engine shut down. Even though I knew nothing about Jet Skis, I had a pretty good idea what happened.

I slipped into the water, actually I hit the water like a giant rock, and began feeling under the ski. I found the rope, one end tied to the bow, the other disappeared into the intake grill. The rope was as tight as a guitar string, the low E string (I'm also taking guitar lessons...another story). Fred was hovering in the area waiting to see how he could assist. We decided I needed a knife which neither of us had, so Fred was off looking for assistance. I can remember being able to tread water forever, not too many years ago, but, even wearing a life jacket, I was having a difficult time keeping in the upright position. Every time I reached under the Jet Ski, my feet would pop up on the opposite side. After a few minutes I became tired from bobbing around like a cork on drugs and decided to swim toward shore with the Jet Ski in tow, figuring I could handle this job a lot better with my feet on solid bottom. Turns out the bottom wasn't solid at all.

About that time Fred was back with another boat following him. Like all the folks out here, this man was anxious to help and pitched me a knife and told me to just get the knife back to him latter as he pulled off. (I guess he thought Fred and I knew what we were doing). I was able to cut the rope but was not able to pull it out of the intake opening. Fred and I decided the prudent thing to do would be to tow the Jet Ski back to my boat ramp, load it on the trailer, pull it up on dry land, crawl under it and fix it right quick. With me still bobbing in the water, we tied a tow rope on the front of the Jet Ski and Fred asked if I was going to be able to get back on my Jet Ski and I told him these new skis had a neat spring loaded step that make it simple to climb back on the ski.

Now, I need to interrupt the smooth flow of this writing to explain something, it has to do with one of the lessons I learned. You see, when I bought the Jet Ski, one question I had was would an older, overweight, out of shape dude like myself be able to get back on this thing when we were out in the middle of a lake? I was assured that with the new spring loaded rear step and the new oversized rear deck, it would be a simple task even for someone like me. It sounded good to me!

Already tired from all the bobbing, pulling and tugging, I went to the rear of my machine, pulled the spring loaded step down and proceeded to attempt the easy task of boarding. I couldn't get my feet up to the step. I couldn't put my knees on the step due to pain (9 surgeries). I couldn't press or pull my lardass up on the rear deck (4 shoulder surgeries). I couldn't reach the handle on the back of the seat because of the oversized rear deck plus I was just too damn tired. Fred, normally a patient man, asked if he could assist me somehow. I looked over my shoulder, looked toward the boat ramp and told Fred that it appeared to only be a few hundred yards to the ramp, so I would just hang onto the handy spring loaded step and he could just tow the Jet Ski and me to the bank. Fred, for some reason, seemed a little concerned about me but I told him not to worry about me, I would be fine, just tow me to the ramp.

Well, another lesson I learned is that my judgment of distances has not gotten better with age. It must have been a half of a mile. To make matters worse, after the first fifty yards or so, my gym shorts and underwear slipped down to about my knees. To prevent losing them completely, I bent my lower legs upward to at least hold the shorts and drawers at my knees. Of course that just caused more drag on my already worn out arms.

Finally, after what seemed like miles, we came close enough to shore for me to touch the bottom. I pulled my underwear and shorts up, after I dumped a couple of minnows out of my underwear, which I had apparently seined up during the trip. I tied off the Jet Ski after falling a couple of times on the moss covered flagstone I had so proudly used to build my ramp. I then backed my Ranger and trailer down the ramp, Fred and I loaded the Jet Ski, I placed the Ranger in four wheel drive and pulled up the ramp. (Just a quick mention of another lesson learned, a 900 CC Ranger in four wheel drive will tear the hell out of a boat ramp made of flagstone.) Now back to the main story.

I pulled the trailer up under the shade of a Mesquite Tree because it was probably only 102 degrees in the shade. I slid under the rear of the trailer to access the damage (slid makes it sound easier than it was). There was only an inch clearance between my nose and the bottom of the ski. I could see the rope wrapped around a shaft. As I lay there deciding on the correct procedure, I began hollering to Fred (much as surgeon would to a nurse), needle nose pliers, long screwdriver, rubber mallet, fillet knife, bigger hammer, Bud Light! After laying under the trailer for what seemed like an eternity, busting nearly every knuckle, choking on cuss words that even I didn't know what they meant, Fred asked if he could relieve me.

Fred crawled under the trailer, said that it looked bad and then crawled back out. I slid back under the trailer much easier than before because I had lost about twenty pounds since this ordeal started. It seemed like I was under there for hours. I had almost every tool from my shop under there with me. I laid there so long in the heat my mind began to wonder. As I looked up at what was left wrapped around the shaft, I began to think, "It could have been worse, that could be my underwear wrapped around there!"

Just as I was about to give up, I gave one last puny tug (I told you I was tired) and to my amazement, what was left of the rope came out as the back of my hand bashed against the trailer frame. We placed the Jet Ski back in the water and everything worked fine. I want to thank all those that were so much help, Fred, Diane, the guy with the knife and others. You might be wondering where Amber was during all this, so am I. She has seen me work on things I know nothing about before, I'm sure there's another lesson there somewhere.