2008, A Look At What Happened (Highlights Only)
January — Got fired from the same company for the 2nd time in less than one year. That's hard to do; just try and you'll see. topher considers it a distinction.
Shoveling.
February — Job hunt.
Also, some Shoveling.
March — Pretty much so just shoveling. But I also visited Boston for the first time, which was cool.
April —Joined up with two Brits, an Irishman, and a Floridian on the wrong side of a railing on a really high bridge in Idaho. Oddly, this is true, and not the beginning of a bad joke. Made nine BASE jumps and did something called a "Tequila Stuntman" (only I used espresso at 1AM, instead of tequila). It hurt.
May — Started a new job (and still loving it).
June — Got pissed at Norm for flaking out on our SCUBA dive dates, and consequently, went out and bought a big boat. We don't know the first thing about maintaining or driving big boats, so I take out a profoundly comprehensive insurance policy on the vessel.
We replace the boat's marine radio and wire it up ourselves the evening before our first outing.
Took the boat out on its first diving excursion—four miles out on Lake Michigan and the boat started on fire. But we put the fire out without any loss of life or equipment. We made a second dive and laughed about our experience at sea. Later investigation reveals the fire was probably a result of the hasty, late-night marine radio installation. Standard operating procedure aboard the boat becomes to "install electrical stuff in the daylight."
July — We took the boat out on another excursion and Brian crashed it into a pier. Again, no lives are lost and no equipment is damaged. But Stacy and the kids had terror in their eyes during the incident. Chris laughs hysterically. A review of the incident reveals Brian is confused by the difference between "fore", "aft", "port", and "starboard". These commands are meaningless to him. Standard operating procedure aboard the boat becomes to "just say fucking 'forward', 'backward', and shit."
Chris gets his parachute back from the shop in pieces and hastily reassembles it in a Chicago hotel room. Upon opening the parachute the next day (3,500 feet above the ground), Chris notices a distinct anomaly in his parachute configuration. I land safely alongside a cornfield with my less-than-ideal parachute and adopt a new parachute assembly standard operating procedure, which is to never do it hastily in a hotel room.
August — We made a whitewater rafting trip, interspersed with some water skiing, tubing, and boating. A friend (who will remain unnamed) seriously injures her vagina water skiing and is subsequently awarded the seek fun Injury of the Year Award by unanimous vote of the seek fun Award Committee. Some people complain about the award being issued before year's end, but upon calming down, all come to realize no one is going to one-up multiple lacerations to the vagina. Grievance resolved.
Chris travels to Tucson on business. While there, I rent a mountain bike and take a rugged ride on some wonderful, mountainous singletrack. With 10 seconds left in the ride (literally) I take a brutal crash, careening into several boulders at high speed. One hour later I attend a business dinner, bleeding through my dress pants and guarding my broken wrist. My co-workers regard me with confusion as I am not overly distraught about my injuries.
Marna crashes mountain biking and breaks her leg, but not badly. She resumes mountain biking within days.
Chris takes his parents on their first ride on the boat. We tour the Milwaukee River and enjoy all-you-can-eat seafood at a riverside restaurant. On the ride home a hydraulic line fails, causing the trim tabs to shift and the boat to list violently to one side (port side). Mom freaks, but the boat is brought back under control with no loss of life or equipment. Standard operating procedure aboard the boat becomes to "not use the trim tabs until we get that fixed."
September — We make an ill-fated attempt at a night dive on the 906 Dredge. Lake Michigan is extremely rough and we never find the Dredge dive site. So we head to the Lumberman and find her quite easily despite the rough seas. Brian and I nearly lose fingers trying to tie the boat off on the WHS buoy. I hurl three times before we finish donning our dive gear, becoming the first person to vomit aboard the boat. We have a successful dive but return to the surface to find Marna on the verge of vomiting. And with the boat lurching upward and downward four feet at a time, we struggle to get back on board with our gear. Eventually, we make a hasty return to shore and admonish ourselves for going to see in such rough conditions. Standard operating procedure aboard the boat becomes to "pay attention to the damn near-shore marine forecast."
October — Prepare for shoveling.
November — The Söka Nöje (the boat) is put to sleep for the year and we realize the summer ended without having to be towed to shore, without having to file an insurance claim, and without killing ourselves!
December — Shoveling, again.
Cheers, and good luck in 2009!
~ topher