Sea Isle City
I write this with a throbbing right arm. I spent half an hour in the early evening, skipping stone in a tide pool. Skipping isn't the right word for what I was doing. It's more like whipping the entire right side of my body, and releasing a stone from my hand, spinning it clockwise until it hits the surface - about fifteen feet right in front of me, or just to the left - and then it either takes three or four giant leaps - maybe 30 feet in total, or it dances across the surface in an arc from left to right, perforating the surface of the water a dozen or maybe two dozen times.
I inherited many things from my father. My dark complexion, for instance. Some say, I also have his charm. He tried to teach me two things when I was young, chess and skipping stones. I'm a terrible chess player. But give me a rock that resembles the RAZR cell phone in shape and weight and I can make that thing glide. Despite my charm and the bilkability of my rich countrymen, I haven't figured out how to turn my talent into a mid-six figure income.
I always promise that I will start updating this blog regularly. Please hold me to it. I'm on vacation but soon afterward I should start sharing my very important opinions on matters like Scott Thomas Beauchamp and other very very important things.
Michael Brendan Dougherty
|
1 Comment
Share this: del.icio.us | Digg | Google | Ma.gnolia | Reddit | Stumble Upon | Technorati
View Printer Friendly Version
Email Article to Friend
Reader Comments (1)
By the way, shoot me a note when you get back, if you think of it.