Dauphin Island - another perspective from an alternate universe
Saturday-Sunday, November 20-21, 2004
by Gary Worob
Dauphin Island paddle/the truth is just a lie!
It was unanimously voted upon that I would not be the one to write the trip report. I always, however, have believed that a good lie is worth 10,000 truths and the lies are what we are most fond of (i.e. Santa Claus, tooth fairies, virgins, fair elections, confessions leading to entrance to heaven and that kind of stuff).
The reason I was deselected is that everyone would be afraid that the truth I would tell would invigorate so many to go on the next “big boy” paddle that there would be too many to allow for individuality and not enough room for individual story telling. So I have decided to embellish this report to some extent so that not too many would want to participate, but enough to move the circle of energy forwards. So having set the precedent here is the truth of things:
EGG DROP SOUP
Once upon a time there were seven seriously demented adults close to senility who embarked on the most absurd of missions: to find the pot of gold at the end of an island that was seriously damaged in a recent hurricane the size of which was enough to make sustainability on that formidable property near impossible. It had now become a permanently shifting bird sanctuary whose only natural resource is droppings, feathers and rubbish.
The seven took off and immediately ran into torrential horrific downpour followed by blistering 100 degree weather only to be followed by 90 mile an hour winds and 17 foot waves with troughs so deep that mere mortals would be lost to the deep eternally. This motley crew knew no fear (or sensibility) and proceeded on by the feverous quest of more debris and bird droppings. After many days at sea with little to no provisions they finally embarked on their dream quest, the isle of wrong, a desolate area ideally suited to the asylum they so sought from wirrings and frivolity of the nonsensical nuances of the Saturday afternoon fever………football!
It was their strongest desire to remove themselves from one of the 7 deadly sins of the modern age and thinking thus they rejoiced exuberantly as they set about building Fort Absurd. It was only a matter of 6 months before the fort was finally finished, complete with running water, wind power and dancing women. The latter were captured from a passing pirate ship that had recently pillaged and plundered a nunnery in the high desert along the coastal front.
Now set for the coming winter the festive crew embarked on more efficient projects that could ensure long happy days of comfort. One of the more creative of the repasts was a recycling business started by brint known as “table topping.” This creative repast led to many festive occasions of luxurious dining and cooking classes, which I must admit I had a serious hand in. Another favorite past time was road construction and sanitary sewer design.
After 6 more months the “motleys” started to notice a serious lack of morale among the crew and were fraught with concern for their safety and well-being. The women all proved to be barren except for a fair haired young extremely warming lass named Alice who proved to be an ample bed partner, but maybe, that is too detailed for this report and should be saved for another journey.
So, early one morning and led by yours truly (the first serious deserter) the crew worked their way back to civilization and found that, in truth, the world had not changed. They were in part relieved to know that there is a constance in the world and that there still was football and beer and lies. And, oh yes, there was a pot of gold there somewhere because the rainbow’s end upon leaving shone right on that site.
You can visit Fort Absurd on your internet: www.whitehouse.com.; it has now been taken over by an even more absurd crew.
Egg drop soup!
(sung to the song “four rode on”) Dauphin Island Paddle
7 rode on,
Rode on high
Waves so big you could hardly see
The sky!
The reports will vary,
That’s for sure.
Only the big boys
know the truth…and who’s full of …manure.
There were seven of us
Who braved the squall
And 7 came home
Standing that tall!
It was a weekend
That will be remembered
By the 7 who rode on,
And the truth somewhere will be…long gone.
We rode big waves
And gusts a plenty
Tents flying in the air….
Should have been a documentary.
But it was a testament
To strength,
Courage
And endurance.
At one point
I wondered…
Did I have enough
insurance?
Larry planned this trip
Real well,
It wasn’t his fault
That the weather went …to Hell!
But Sunday brought
good
Cheers for
My birthday.
And it turned
Out to be a beautiful one,
A great
Anniversary!
Thanks to one and all,
For making this paddle
Stand
Tall!
No matter what size
The waves,
And how strong
The wind…
Some of us will remember
This story with a
Snort and
A grin.
by Gary Worob
Dauphin Island paddle/the truth is just a lie!
It was unanimously voted upon that I would not be the one to write the trip report. I always, however, have believed that a good lie is worth 10,000 truths and the lies are what we are most fond of (i.e. Santa Claus, tooth fairies, virgins, fair elections, confessions leading to entrance to heaven and that kind of stuff).
The reason I was deselected is that everyone would be afraid that the truth I would tell would invigorate so many to go on the next “big boy” paddle that there would be too many to allow for individuality and not enough room for individual story telling. So I have decided to embellish this report to some extent so that not too many would want to participate, but enough to move the circle of energy forwards. So having set the precedent here is the truth of things:
EGG DROP SOUP
Once upon a time there were seven seriously demented adults close to senility who embarked on the most absurd of missions: to find the pot of gold at the end of an island that was seriously damaged in a recent hurricane the size of which was enough to make sustainability on that formidable property near impossible. It had now become a permanently shifting bird sanctuary whose only natural resource is droppings, feathers and rubbish.
The seven took off and immediately ran into torrential horrific downpour followed by blistering 100 degree weather only to be followed by 90 mile an hour winds and 17 foot waves with troughs so deep that mere mortals would be lost to the deep eternally. This motley crew knew no fear (or sensibility) and proceeded on by the feverous quest of more debris and bird droppings. After many days at sea with little to no provisions they finally embarked on their dream quest, the isle of wrong, a desolate area ideally suited to the asylum they so sought from wirrings and frivolity of the nonsensical nuances of the Saturday afternoon fever………football!
It was their strongest desire to remove themselves from one of the 7 deadly sins of the modern age and thinking thus they rejoiced exuberantly as they set about building Fort Absurd. It was only a matter of 6 months before the fort was finally finished, complete with running water, wind power and dancing women. The latter were captured from a passing pirate ship that had recently pillaged and plundered a nunnery in the high desert along the coastal front.
Now set for the coming winter the festive crew embarked on more efficient projects that could ensure long happy days of comfort. One of the more creative of the repasts was a recycling business started by brint known as “table topping.” This creative repast led to many festive occasions of luxurious dining and cooking classes, which I must admit I had a serious hand in. Another favorite past time was road construction and sanitary sewer design.
After 6 more months the “motleys” started to notice a serious lack of morale among the crew and were fraught with concern for their safety and well-being. The women all proved to be barren except for a fair haired young extremely warming lass named Alice who proved to be an ample bed partner, but maybe, that is too detailed for this report and should be saved for another journey.
So, early one morning and led by yours truly (the first serious deserter) the crew worked their way back to civilization and found that, in truth, the world had not changed. They were in part relieved to know that there is a constance in the world and that there still was football and beer and lies. And, oh yes, there was a pot of gold there somewhere because the rainbow’s end upon leaving shone right on that site.
You can visit Fort Absurd on your internet: www.whitehouse.com.; it has now been taken over by an even more absurd crew.
Egg drop soup!
(sung to the song “four rode on”) Dauphin Island Paddle
7 rode on,
Rode on high
Waves so big you could hardly see
The sky!
The reports will vary,
That’s for sure.
Only the big boys
know the truth…and who’s full of …manure.
There were seven of us
Who braved the squall
And 7 came home
Standing that tall!
It was a weekend
That will be remembered
By the 7 who rode on,
And the truth somewhere will be…long gone.
We rode big waves
And gusts a plenty
Tents flying in the air….
Should have been a documentary.
But it was a testament
To strength,
Courage
And endurance.
At one point
I wondered…
Did I have enough
insurance?
Larry planned this trip
Real well,
It wasn’t his fault
That the weather went …to Hell!
But Sunday brought
good
Cheers for
My birthday.
And it turned
Out to be a beautiful one,
A great
Anniversary!
Thanks to one and all,
For making this paddle
Stand
Tall!
No matter what size
The waves,
And how strong
The wind…
Some of us will remember
This story with a
Snort and
A grin.
posted by brint @ 9:56 PM
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