blogging off

I apologize for slacking off these past two days.  But I decided it was much better to live friendships than to write about them.


Radical idea, eh?


This past week reminded me that the value of friendship is in the doing. 


If you asked me what the three of us discussed during our trips this past week, I could give you a vague idea of the topics.  But if you were not there as a participant, knowing the topics would do you little good.


I fully anticipated good conversation with Brian.  He is a minister.  A teacher.  A scholar.  And he has lived in several countries around the world.  He is one of those people who remind you with his talent just how the art of conversation has slipped away in general society.


But his son, Holden, turned out to be a great joy.  I was a bit intimidated about what I would do to occupy the interests of a 16-year old boy.  I have always known he was very intelligent.  But 16 is a challenging age.


It turned out not to be a problem.  His conversation topics and his ability to argue (in the rhetorical sense of that word) bore the DNA of the idealistic dreams of any teenage boy.  But he is also very logical and can hold his own in any discussion.


I should not have been surprised.  After all, he has almost completed all of his requirements to obtain his civilian flight license.


But he is still a teenager.  And discussions only go so far.


He told me before he arrived that he would be interested in riding a jet ski.  I knew I had seen them on the west end of the beach earlier in the year.  But each time we were on that side of the beach, nada.


On Saturday, we decided to have one last lunch on the beach before I drove them to the airport for their afternoon flight.  Just as we sat down, we all saw it.  One jet ski in the water.  Just waiting to be ridden.


Holden did a quick calculation of time, and decided if we were economical with our lunch time, he could get in a full half hour of jet ski before we had to leave.


So, we did.  And he had a great time.  That is him out there almost as the only vessel on Navidad Bay.  Whipping back and forth.  Writing his initials in the Pacific.

My only regret is that there was not another one available.  It would have been fun to race him -- reliving some of those old motorcycle days.  When rules were just a fading ember in the back of the mind.

But, it eventually ended.  As did their week in Melaque.

 

I dropped them off at the airport, and took delivery of my GPS mount and power adapter – brought from Seattle by the very capable hands of my friend, Anne.


The mount is now installed on the windshield of the Welfare Escape, and the GPS is pointed toward San Miguel for my return drive to the highlands.  That is what I will be doing all day on Sunday.