Instead of stopping to smell the roses, make time to float a river in a tube. Seriously. We should all spend more time floating instead of flying through life.
Nothing brings people together or cleanses the soul like canned beer and slightly moist, mostly salty snacks. Today, I’m thankful for friends who are willing, year after year, hurricane after hurricane, to plop their asses in inner tubes and float beside me.
Friends, here are some vital lessons (in no particular order) I’ve learned from tubing:
- The river is a great place to talk—not argue—politics.
- Judging is a four-letter word.
- If you have a lesson on anatomy, by all means, bestow it. Don’t be shy. (See #2.)
- Tubes should be named (and christened) appropriately.
- Nostalgia should be embraced with a bear hug.
- It’s mandatory to laugh, and it’s also perfectly acceptable to cry.
- She may make you pee, guide you into sharp debris and write bad poetry, but the river will ALWAYS provide.
- Beware of The Mateo and raccoons with laser-beam eyes.
- We really, really should have commemorative t-shirts.
- Why can’t someone just invent a floating fire pit?
- If anyone is on the verge of capsizing, save the cooler.
- Rapids ahead. Asses up.
- Sure, a tent will protect you from lightning and gale-force winds.
- Taquito hunting is a sport.
- If you buy a pair of croakies for $11.95 at a gas station for yourself, and yourself only, well, that’s just short-sighted.
- Nearly naked is not naked.
- If you touch a frozen donut, you buy a frozen donut.
Seventeen is enough. For now. If you’re feeling this vibe, feel free to drop some knowledge of your own. Just don’t drop a deuce. In the river.
|I'm the pretty one in the purple tube.|