Having a boat is reminding me of being a freshman in college again, living in the dorm. No, it's not because someone is always emitting a technicolor repeat of Friday night's dinner on Saturday morning. No, it's not because you gain a minimum of 15 pounds. And especially no, it's not because you sit around and marvel at the deep philosophical insights in rock lyrics.
It's because you move a lot of stuff.
You might remember the first year you lived in a dorm room, and you may have arrived with the idea that you had thought of everything you would need. Stereo? check. LP record collection? check. Hand-me-down television set, probably black and white? check. Cute matching bedspread and pillow, with matching set for the new roommate? check. Posters of favorite bands for walls? check!
Within a couple of week, however, you found you needed more stuff. A small refrigerator for the room, and glasses for the daiquiris you froze in the small refrigerator. A bowl for holding the daiquiris until they froze. An air popping machine for those no cal snacks to offset the daiquiris. A laundry basket for hauling laundry down to the basement of coin operated machines. A holder to collect quarters for the coin operated machines. Milk cartons to hold the LPs and the course books. Etc. etc.
By the end of the year, you suddenly realized you had to vacate the room and take all that stuff back home. And suddenly, you realized that it wouldn't all fit into the car, because it was at least twice as much as you had packed at the beginning of the year.
A boat can be sort of like that. It goes in the water in early summer, and you realize you need some more stuff. Dishwashing soap and a toilet brush and pillows for the overnights and apple juice and bread for breakfast and wine for the guests who come cruising and a change of clothes for when the weather is suddenly very hot. . .
Suddenly, it is almost Halloween and you have to pull the boat out of the water so it doesn't freeze in there and you start to pull out the stuff that can't stay out all winter. . .and it's a lot more than you remember ever bringing in the first place.
So, you run down and pull out the wine, and some more wine, and oh! look! a bottle of rum. I didn't know we had rum down here, and soda water and another soda water and another soda water and oh! look! more rum!! and regular Coke but no Diet Coke because nobody drinks regular Coke anymore when they can have beer, and another bottle of red wine and some more white wine, and. . .hey, this is some good stuff!. . .an unopened bottle of Bailey's Irish Cream (I thought we finished this? We did, that's a new one we got after we finished it). . .and some bleach and dog food from when the dog came cruising and hey! More rum! And some pillows and whose clothes are these in this drawer? and hand soap--does hand soap freeze?--and some more soda water and an old bottle of sangria. Can you pour sangria down the drain if the drain goes straight into the river?
And you have to go back at least three times, because there is no way it all fits into the car, and at least you don't have to pack it all into a suitcase to fly home like you did in college.