Woke up in South Boston on March 14, and the thermometer read a balmy 18 degrees. At least thanks to Daylight Savings it was pitch black at 7 AM. My SDS (Seasonal Depression Syndrome or Someone Dying Soon) has been well documented here. Freezing, angry and with the South Boston Saint Patrick’s Day parade a few days away something needed to be done. You may be surprised that I am not supportive of Southies’ biggest “family event”. Nothing says “family” quite like drunk kids falling from roof decks with more regularity than the St. Monica’s church bells. Or how about total strangers knocking on your door and asking if they can use your bathroom. Upon being told “no” they then preceded to piss on your porch and that’s just the classy broads. The day ends with Southie on Southie physical violence. The weapon of choice being hockey sticks (big Bruins’ fans) unfortunately no one gets seriously injured. It’s so “family oriented” I’m surprised Disney hasn’t gotten involved.

Road trip, I decided. But where? The Lovely Old Ladies (LOL’s) sisters (one blood and one in law) have a beautiful spot on the Cape. Plus they generously offer it to me anytime (between January 1, and February 28). But since the heat wasn’t working my invitation period extended into March. It would be quiet and maybe I’d catch a couple of waves before the Great Whites mosied up from Florida. We had trouble from the get go. Loading the surf gear resulted in a “sand dune” in the front seat. In a ten minute soliliquy on how the “sand dune” was a metaphor for my lack of concern for her overall well being the LOL refused to get in. I tried to explain that cleaning car before going to the beach didn’t seem to make much sense. LOL, arms crossed, voice raised wasn’t interested in logic.

Finally underway, the surfboard began to rattle. I told the LOL that the new car did not accommodate the old surf rack. She demanded that the car be stopped on the Mass Pike and I put a “towel” around the board. Given that I had loaded hundreds of surfbaords and she had loaded exactly zero, a ten minute argument ensued. Threatening to wrap the towel around her neck I finally closed the sunroof and turned up the radio. Didn’t do much for the rattling but drowned out the LOL rather effectively.

As we approached her sisters’ house, she said, “Don’t you need to get over?” I explained that I think that the exit had changed due to recent construction. Wrong answer. “I come here three f-ing times a month you come here never and you think I don’t know the god damn traffic pattern. Just do what I tell you.” I did, the exit was changed and we missed it. After a brief pause, I heard “If you knew the exit was changed why did you listen to me? Seriously? I want to know? WHY?!?!”.

Believe it oor not we actaully made it to the Cape. I asked what she wanted for dinner. “Dinner? dinner? now you want to blow my diet?”

Pretty sure nothing and no one going to get blown around here, not even the waves.

KOKO