Friday, April 24, 2009

A story for the kids!

Warning: this is completely un-sports related. Sorry..maybe I can tie in a reference in the end...

Since today was the first semi-not-freezing day of '09, the Key West girl in my celebrated by sporting white pants and getting my design work done to the sounds of Damian Marley etc..

It was an enormous mood lift and it felt so great to run around (my apartment) like the scrappy little barefoot island kid that I am at heart. Especially since hockey* was sad last night AND I found out I need to have my tonsils out...etc, etc mild peril, the usual.

Anyway..while I was alternating hoola hooping and doing actual work, I was daydreaming about how decent this summer could be...reggae Sundays on Peaks Island, getting a D-League team, boat adventures in the midcoast... Especially Reggae Sundays..which brought back a memory that I had forgot until today....

Picture it: Williamsburg, Virginia. I am about 13 years old and I have just moved to the VA to spend a few months with my mother and stepfather. They, at this point, are unaware of what an "independent" and "spirited" child I am. Heh heh.

A few days into my stay, I find out about a Ziggy Marley concert in Richmond that I absolutely MUST go to. Lawrence Taylor is from Richmond**. My folks decline, as they can't take me since they are spending that weekend golfing somewhere fancy. This doesn't really phase me, because I didn't want THEM to take me..I mean how embarrassing...I just wanted to go. So they left for the weekend, and I, in turn, decided to borrow the Benz to drive to Richmond (p.s I'm newly 13..but this isn't my first road trip...). Now at this point I must note that my intentions on these "adventures" were never mean spirited or to "rebel"...I simply knew what I wanted to do and was confident that I could accomplish it. If no one finds out..no harm, no foul...right?

So bought the tickets over the phone with my Dad's mastercard and set out in the family whip.

As I remember it, I got into Richmond, but had no idea where the venue was. I called the number from my enormous prehistoric Nokia cell phone (remember this was a long, long time ago) and called the promoter.

Problem #1: the concert was cancelled.

Problem #2: the concert was cancelled due to the tornadoes sweeping around Virginia that evening.

I was wondering why the sky went black so early...

So, I started driving back to the 'Burg, but it became evident that the weather was not going to make it easy. I ended up making it almost all the way..but to stop in the Powhattan vicinity to huddle into a hotel lobby with a bunch of strangers due to a "Twister" like scene headed right for me.

Everything ended up being fine and I only got caught because the ticket office called the house phone and left a message about the cancellation...and I didn't bother to check it (even then, I was allergic to voice mail).

Wow! That was pointless, but it illustrates the following facts:
a). I have been carrying the burden of being awesome for many years.
b). You should probably check the weather before you set out on any underage adventure.
And c). At ONE time in my life I could read a map.


*by that I mean AHL hockey...besides that, chyeah Ducks! P.s that's sports reference #1..

**sports reference #2, in case you weren't keeping track.
Sent from my BlackBerry® wireless device from U.S. Cellular

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