Monday, July 12, 2004

The boys of summer

Our stomachs are bigger, we remember to wear sunscreen, and the old Nordic Crestliner boat strains against our weight more than ever before. But a day at the lake is still what it has always been.
My best friend, Paul, was in town this weekend for our 10-year high school reunion. He's a dork for insisting that we go, but it was good to have him in town.
After suffering through the hours of discomfort that was our reunion Saturday, we were out on Lake Riley today, pushing the old boat for what she was worth.
With five people sitting in her, a skier must suffer through a 15- to 20-second full strength battle before she gets up to speed and pulls you upright. It was funny to watch Eric as he fought against the water, almost wholly submerged but refusing to let go of the tow rope.
We milked the day for all we could and I was winching the boat onto the trailer as the sun settled behind the trees on the horizon -- leaving us to gulp down beers and bratwurst and probably a few of the relentless swarming mosquitoes, and stare out on a placid, orange and pink lake in the early evening.
Now I'm home and showered and in a few minutes I'll lay down next to my incredibly beautiful wife and listen to the rattle of our window air conditioner and say a few hundred prayers of thanks.
Moments like today are why I go through all the other days. This is why I live in Minnesota. This is why I go to work. This is why I get out of bed every morning.

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