Whaling Days are over. The carnival rides have been disassembled, folded up, packed onto trucks and moved on to the next stop. The vendors have packed away their left over’s, taken their tents down and closed up until next year or found the next weekend event to reopen. The primary colors dancing in the nightlights and the canned carousel music broadcasting the same repetitious tunes have ended. All the treasure hunters have searched the grounds and those with metal detectors have already collected what fallen money they could, especially around the coin toss.
There were a few things that stood out to me. First, there was the whaling that took place outside my window at about 2:00 a.m. both Saturday and Sunday night. Where is a pellet gun when I need it? It was hard to sleep, but this kind of racket is usually only on this weekend once a year.
I did enjoy the fireworks that we can walk across the street and get behind on the narrow walkway behind the Yacht Club Broiler. We cold have sat on their outdoor patio for the price of a drink. No one coughed up the money. There were new displays this year. The computerized explosions came more rapidly and with greater quantity at one time. Then so did the noise. They even sounded louder. There was a white one that left the impression of a waterfall cascading over its ledge and running into a fading mist. The lights hung on longer than most. At one time the set so many waterfalls off it reminded me of Niagara Falls. Maybe that’s a slight exaggeration.
I never walked down it see Whaling Days. Saturday was hot and crowded. Sunday was cool and misting in the early part of the day. I walked to church on Sunday with a few clouds hanging overhead. It was cool with promises of warming up. I went a little early to help work on parking. The whole area around the church was already taken. My greeting partner arrived around 7:00 a.m. (9:30 service) to protect a spot for the van that comes from a nursing home. John works there as well and figured the spot would be gone with no place for the van if it weren’t held. Apparently it was a good thing. He turned dozens of vehicles away. The most belligerent man reminded John that this was a public road and he had a right to park there. Yes you do sir, but would you really deprive a group of elderly seniors from attending church because they had no place to park. He left, but not with some derogatory comment about a sexual activity. John blessed than as they drove away.
We had no outstanding weirdo’s walk past. The closest exception was a skinny young man wearing pants without a belt who had to hitch his jeans back up every 10-12 steps. He was not wearing the usual boxing short, but tight grey patterned ones revealing his very bony ass. The general run of thumb was most guys were wearing their hair short. This is a military town. Guys wore baggy mid calf shorts without belts; girls on the other hand were very close to wearing Daisy Duke short shorts. Their hair was long and straight. Way too many girls walking alone or with girlfriends were with child. I was sad, and maybe shouldn’t have been. But I wondered if there would be a present father for that child.
Well Whaling Days are over for another year. I will sleep tonight. That’s a good thing. I’m tired.
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