We had landed at New Madrid during the night, landed because the captain had nosed the boat into the mud at the bank rather than pulling up to a dock. The gangways were already down by the time I got to the café and claimed a two top at the rail. I did not…
WiFi and internet are tenuous at best on the river. (Truly we have discovered this is the case across much of the country. Our electronic cover is more of a lace antimacassar, read full of holes, than a blanket.) For the most part we have spent this week oblivious to the important decisions being…
I remember driving down two-lane highways late at night in Wyoming. The dark lit only by the stars and an occasional moon. Now and then there was a light in the distance, a big flood light illuminating some ranch compound. Mostly though, it was dark…and quiet. Floating down the river at night is like…
Still determined to get the most of our river experience, I was at the café by 6:30. It was grey and warm on the front porch, but as I stepped forward to the rail overlooking the main deck I found it was also raining. Across the water a developing breeze began to blow a heavy…
No one sleeps late on the river boat. Perhaps it’s all of us old people who simply don’t sleep all that much anymore. Here on the boat, I’m not the only one up at 4 AM. I’ve lost my regular few hours of solitude. While some still sleep late, or at least, would like to,…
I don’t talk much. Those who know me can testify to this. Even in social situations I am prone to sit back, listen, and observe. Why then am I on a boat with 400 people who seem to want to talk to me constantly? I can only say, it’s because of the river. We piddled…
It is unusual to sleep soundly in new surroundings, but sleep we did. Yesterday started at 2:30 in the morning. Checking in at the airport was complicated by a women’s soccer team also boarding after playing at the University the previous day. Needless to say, the plane was crowded. Early morning adrenaline kept us…
My wife says that I worry too much and that I sometimes have unreal expectations of coming events. She may be right. I am the kind of person who plans and expects to have a perfect Christmas, who plans trips that should be everyone’s dream vacation, who anticipates the special meals that I cook…
Fair week was always an important part of our summer. It came in early July, just after the Fourth of July celebration. Though sporadic fireworks could still be heard late in the evening and the occasional pop-bottle rocket arched over a roof top and popped in a mini shower of sparks, the night was mostly…
Sometimes, I write when I don’t really have a point that I am trying to make. Rather, I write only to record an occasion to look back on at some point in the future. My memory is dodgy at best; paper documentation (or truly digital documentation) is more reliable. We met Heather and her children,…
barelyaboomer 