SUMMER HEAT... so much going on (part 161j)

SUMMER HEAT… so much going on (Part 161j)

Betsy had called from the branch before everybody left and, if she was to be believed, it had been a smooth day. By ‘smooth’ I’m referring to Jerry not getting too much involved. New accounts had dropped off, a lot, until after 5pm when they had a bit of a rush. I remember her making a comment that during that last hour they’d given away as many electric drills as had been given away from the opening. I found that to be a bit strange but filed it away in the recesses of my mind. Because Monday was the day before a holiday I knew there would be a lot of pressure in all aspects of both the main office and branch. I was somewhat torn as weather to go to the branch first or come in to see how things looked before heading in that direction. Hobie had stayed late and I got his attention before he disappeared out the door. I told him of my dilemma and he suggested I come to the main office first. I liked that because it took some pressure off me. He’d been pleased that I’d not gone to the branch that day and that, according to Betsy, Jerry had done OK on his own. I just hoped it was the right decision because it it wasn’t I’d have to clean up the ‘mess’.

The subtitle to this part of the blog “so much going on” certainly held true for the weekend. Chores, the neighbors leaving, moving the other Sunfish to the sailing club, stopping at the garage to give Cliffy the money for the work on the cylinder heads and putting out small ‘fires’ around the house. On Bill and Phyllis leaving, she and the kids (other than Barbara) left while I was at the landfill leaving Bill to oversee the move of their furniture to a storage facility. My first conscious knowledge of them having left came when Bill appeared with a thin, pale young man following him. He introduced him as Romeo. I don’t know if I smiled or not but as I remember, all in all, it was a pretty funny. Bill told me he was the son of the owner of the house and had come to check on the condition of the house and to get the keys. I honestly don’t remember him speaking. Sometimes, with Bill around, it was hard for anybody to speak. In any case, I gave him some sort of “welcome to the neighborhood” words and then watched him walk back to the break in the hedge and disappear. Bill hung back and gave me a ‘roll of the eyes’ look and as he walked away he turned and told me that “Romeo” was the last name of the people who had bought the house. I was totally confused.

At the sailing club there were quite a few cars there and I could see that almost all the Sunfish racks were filled. I wanted to see how the bathrooms turned out with the addition of the cubicles and a coat of paint. Walking through the front doors I was greeted with the view of a female butt. The woman was on her hands and knees and was scraping something off the floor. I stopped and assessed (pun?) the situation… and it was a good one. VPL’s are good bt DP’s are better and this was a nice one. I recognized the elastic as belonging to a pair of Shadowline panties, a not inexpensive brand. It was a great look as she totally ignored me as I stood there almost directly over her. Walking away I found out the ladies were there to do the clean up that they couldn’t do the previous weekend. I checked out the bathrooms and was impressed. Having everything new, including paint, made a BIG difference. The building had been there for 15 years with the only work ever done on it being repairs after storms.

On my way back outside I was able to get a frontal look of the woman I’d been looking at a few minutes earlier and didn’t recognize her at all. She was fairly attractive with brown hair in a pony tail. That threw me off as to judging her age but first guess was around my age. I tracked down someone I knew and asked about her and was told it was the wife of the guy who’d donated the money for the renovations. There were a few others who were worth a second look but as I’d found the year earlier they were not part of the ‘racing crowd’.

Speaking of racing, Sunday kicked off the official opening of the club for the season and meant there would be racing. It was considered as practice and didn’t count for the season championship. With us now having two boats it meant Elle would be racing as well. She and a few other women had taken some racing lessons the previous Summer but this would be their ’test under fire’. The plan was for them to have their own series of races but for this practice it was going to be both male and female competing against each other. In talking with a couple of the racing guys they were ‘licking their chops’ over how badly they were going to beat the women. I’ll admit I felt the same way but kept my mouth shut.

Because I’d not attended the mid Winter meeting I missed the fact that there was to be a cocktail party/meeting that night. When I heard that news I really wished the car was racing. Driving home I actually debated not telling Elle but, with the junior sailing program starting the next week I knew some of the mothers would ask where she was… and that would not be a good thing for me. I also knew that with Barbara now staying with us we had a built in baby sitter. I knew I was doomed to a boring evening.

As expected, the majority of the attendees were parents of the kids in the junior sailing program. They had to be members of the club but their only interest was in having a place to drop off their kids for a very reasonable cost. They had no interest in competitive sailing. Since 90% of them were Summer residents their primary interest was in their work (mostly in the city) and the problems in the communities where they permanently lived. I couldn’t have cared less about that stuff. I found a few of the racers and hung out with them on the porch. Elle had made friends with a few of the mothers the previous Summer and re-connected with them. By the time they called the meeting to order I was ready to head home… but I didn’t.

There were about 60 people there, mostly couples. The ‘business’ of the evening was to inform the members that there were going to be a couple of changes in the way the junior sailing lessons were to be run. At that point I saw Bobbi, my former crew, make an entrance through the back door (it would take to long to explain) and then be introduced as the Director of the junior sailing program. I’d seen her the previous weekend after not having seeing her for an extended period of time. That caused a bit of a stir. In the past the program was overseen by one of the officers of the club. All officers were volunteers and the official title had been Rear Commodore. Effective immediately, Bobbie was a paid employee… and there would be an increase in dues to cover the cost. It suddenly became more than a ’stir’ as it seemed that almost everybody was talking at once. I was looking at Bobbi and could see she was uncomfortable.

To be continued…