Little PeaceBang With Uncle Marv
Here's little tiny PeaceBang out on the boat at a very tender age, with Uncle Marvin.
I'm thinking I'm about three minutes from barfing on Uncle Marv. He won't be smiling like that when I do.
PeaceBang has no sea legs at all.
This picture is making me happier than anything else today, pretty much. Sister of PB found it, and some other old dandies, and brought them to the funeral. Which was really an amazing thing. Kind of like ... well, imagine ... well, I can't really describe it. Except that I feel really, really sorry for all the people who were trying to get a good night's sleep at the Holiday Inn Express in West Point last night, and would like to apologize.
When I look at this photo of me as such a little squirt, I remember that my sister and I actually participated in a summer camp program called "Sea Squirts." We got picked up in a hippie VW bus and listened to this teenaged kid play the guitar (we sang things like "Blowin' In the Wind" and "Leavin' On a Jet Plane" -- does this date me, or what?). When we got to Compo Beach we got swimming lessons which I don't remember. All I remember was the sand bars, which were always magical because they never lasted very long. I also remember the duffel bag Mom used to pack for me, which was navy with nautical designs. It was probably the size of one of my evenings bags today, but back then it seemed just huge because it was stuffed with a beach towel (probably the size of today's pillow covers) and lunch. In a brown paper bag that Mom would decorate with our names on it.
I was a sea squirt. I went up through the ranks from Tadpole to Minnow to Fish to Flying Fish to Shark. By the time I was a Shark I think I knew how to give mouth-to-mouth. And by then we had moved and it all happened at the YMCA, which was always so chlorine-smelling and I really preferred the ocean.
If I squeeze my brain really hard I can remember the pride I felt moving from Minnow to Fish.