The Boat Ride
I am a member of that nearly extinct generation of Americans which
actually thinks it possible to enjoy a vacation without hours and
hours of cable television. I believe that a lake can be fun even if
you don't rent jet skis and blast around at high speed, and when I
come up with a list of exciting things to do on a trip, "go to the
mall" is not likely to be on it, even if they do have factory-outlet
stores.
Because of my antediluvian attitude, I have forced my children to
suffer through several "horrible vacations," including one just this
summer in which my younger teenage daughter "almost drowned."
She didn't almost anything. I took her out in a rowboat by promising
her an opportunity for one-on-one quality time with her father, during
which the two of us could talk intimately about anything she wanted
and then I would pay her twenty dollars.
I know it sounds as if I were bribing her to spend time with me, but
in my view, she was going to get the money out of me anyway,
"borrowing" it so that she could go shopping later. This loan would
join all the others in a non-interest-bearing note which even Enron's
accountants would have ethical trouble calling an asset.
Okay, maybe not "ethical" trouble.
At any rate, we rowed along for awhile, enjoying a silence disturbed
only by the occasional gurgle when my oar dipped into the water. Then
she took me up on my offer to discuss anything she had on her mind,
which turned out to be this:
"Can we go back now?"
"We've only been out for five minutes; let's drift for a bit," I
suggested.
"I can't believe this boat doesn't have a motor."
"I don't mind rowing. Do you want to try it? It's a lot of fun," I
offered seductively.
"No."
"I brought a rod; do you want to try to catch a fish?"
"No."
"What do you want to do?"
"Go back."
"Wouldn't you rather be out here on the lake?"
"No."
It was, I reflected, one of our more pleasant conversations.
"Dad, what's with the water?" She pointed at my feet.
I frowned. A steadily growing pool of water was forming on the
bottom of the boat. As a sailor of considerable experience, I
immediately recognized we were in the nautical condition known as
"sinking."
"The plug fell out," I noted.
"Oh my God!" my daughter shrieked.
"Don't be afraid. We won't drown," I assured her.
"These are new shoes!"
"Just put on a life vest." I held one out to her.
She glanced at it disdainfully. "Could they pick a more hideous
color?"
"I'll get us back to the dock." I began heaving on the oars, but the
boat had gained considerable weight and responded sluggishly. Not
wanting my daughter to panic, I decided to distract her with a
question. "Well, we seem to be taking on about a gallon a minute.
With every gallon, our speed slows down by about one percent. Our
current rate of travel is around a foot a second, and we have a
hundred yards to go. How long will it take us to get to shore?"
Her eyes bulged. "The boat is sinking and you want me to do math?
"It's an interesting problem, don't you think?"
"You're making me nauseated."
"You could take that coffee can and bail."
She gingerly picked up a rusting can. "It has dirt in it."
"Right, that's where they keep the earthworms."
She dropped the can. "Ew!"
"But if you bailed a quart of water every ten seconds..."
"If a boat were sinking an inch a minute, how long would it take my
dad to realize he's a complete dork?" she wondered out loud.
We didn't sink, but by the time I got us to shore a considerable
amount of lake had joined us in the boat. Our pants were soaked, and
my daughter couldn't wait to tell her siblings that in the midst of
drowning, I insisted on torturing her with algebra.
Also, her shoes were "ruined," so the twenty dollars I gave her would
go toward a replacement pair.
She borrowed the rest.
~ Bruce Cameron ~
[ by
W. Bruce Cameron Copyright © 2007, (bruce@wbrucecameron.com) -- {used with permission} ]
Inspirational Humor
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