Where’d I Go?!

56th birthday selfie, March 2022

Well, it’s been quite a while since I last wrote. Seven months, to be exact. I’ve had several topics burn holes in my brain over that time — so much so that I jotted notes on bar napkins, my phone, this laptop…everywhere it seems, except, the Moleskine notebook I’ve kept in my car for a decade-plus for just such a purpose — but I simply never knuckled down and actually WROTE the damned things. I blame no one but myself and offer no excuse but my own laziness.

And I’m not really feeling it right now, either. But I NEED to get my ass back in gear so I’m forcing myself to just write — or rather, to just type — and get. this. shit. down. I have no illusions or aspirations to quality and there will be no great insights (not that there ever are). This is purely a DO-something exercise. So without further interruption…

As with so many others during these crazy, pandemic-tinged days, it’s been weird. So allow me to recap what’s been going on since I last posted, back in early September 2021. At the time, I had just started a new job with the Brand Safety Institute and I was living aboard Further at a marina in Annapolis. Here we go:

The big news in recent months, as is the case with so many in the world these days, has been medical. But nothing major, thank goodness.

Indian River Inlet, Delaware on a sunny September Saturday. Who knew what would result…

Ten days after my last post I roadtripped it over to the Delaware coast, about a two-hour drive from Annapolis. Tropical storm I-forget-the-name was working its way into the southern New England shore and sending waves back this way. I went to a beach that I’d heard had decent surfing but when I got there, it was all just shore pound: waves breaking right on the beach. There was definite swell, though, and I didn’t feel like wandering around on a sunny Saturday looking, so I settled in on the beach and spent the day alternately body surfing and reading. All in all, I had a great day, and it was wonderful being back in the ocean again.

Three days later, though, I started having some pain in my right shoulder. It was the same kind of impingement syndrome I’d had back in spring of 2017; I’d slammed while skiing in February and, true to form, didn’t bother seeing anyone until the pain got unbearable. I did physical therapy for a while and…voila! Everything was better.

This was the same thing: a constant, dull ache in my shoulder, feelings like something inside was catching when I’d move a certain way and, every now and then, excruciating pain that felt like someone was jabbing a knife into my shoulder. As with 2017, it took a while but I finally got off my ass and went to physical therapy. Over the course of several weeks, Doc Jamie and the crew at Rehab2Perform got my shoulder working again. I also saw an ortho and got exactly what I expected from our illustrious American medical system: an X-ray and an MRI and a doctor who said, basically, “Well, I can’t see much. There’s some arthritis here, some tendonitis there and a tiny little tear here. Keep doing PT. That’ll be a thousand bucks, please.”

Dead and Company with great friends at the Hollywood Bowl, 30 October. Then next day watched the Patriots beat the Chargers at the new Sofi Stadium (which is amazing). GREAT weekend!

Through it all I kept playing hockey which I’m sure didn’t help. But the truth is: I didn’t really feel the shoulder WHILE I was playing. Every now and then I’d extend my arm a certain way and OW! But by and large, my brain was off while I played and so I felt nothing — and that escape was invaluable. Yeah, my shoulder ached like a sonofabitch afterwards but it was worth it for the serenity and joy of playing the game I love.

That shoulder injury continues to this day, though in much reduced form. The instances of extreme pain are gone, as is the constant dull ache. I still get occasional twinges but I’d say my shoulder is now about 85 to 90 percent normal. So…I’ll survive.

Hockey itself gave me another injury that also persists to this day. During a regular Friday-morning game about five weeks ago, I was skating out of my team’s end when one of my defensemen tried to pass the puck to a teammate. The puck struck me right on the bulb of the left ankle and I went down like I’d been shot. That’s a play that happens a hundred times in a season but for some reason, this time I really felt it. I kept playing and the pain went away…mostly. I still felt like I had a bone bruise for a couple of weeks, but then the pain really came on. Unlike the shoulder pain, this was hard to miss as I skated. And then I twice caught an edge and rolled my left ankle, exacerbating things — to the point where just walking hurt.

Naptown apartment Christmas 2021

So it was that about three weeks after the injury occurred, not only were things not getting better, they were, in fact, getting worse. I cranked up the icing of my ankle, started taking pain killers and, knock on wood, things finally seem to be stabilizing a bit, although when I first get out of bed in the morning and walk to the bathroom, my ankle is pretty sore. Oh well. The trend is positive and I certainly don’t want to go through the bullshit I went through with the ortho and my shoulder (and what, really, could he do differently about my ankle?), so I’ll just keep plugging along.

Which brings me to the final and biggest malady I’ve faced in recent times, and if you accuse me of burying the lede, well, you’re right.

Last Saturday afternoon, after a walk in Quiet Waters Park here in Annapolis, I got home and felt unusually tired. I took a short nap and upon waking up felt really shitty for about 20 minutes. Headache, a dry cough and really, really tired. I thought to myself, “I wonder…” and decided to try one of the at-home Covid tests I’d purchased back around the new year.

Boom! A positive test. That was a bummer because I was planning to join some hockey buddies that evening to watch the NCAA hockey championship game but once I got that test result I pulled the plug. The thing is, at the same time I was thinking, “I wonder…” I was also thinking, “Don’t do it because if it comes back positive you’ll have to shut everything down.” But, stupid me. Or maybe: considerate me. Maybe even: vigilant me. Too late. I tested positive.

Group selfie (thanks, Dave!) outside the St. James Theatre in NYC

What’s a pisser is that I got fully vaccinated back in April and May of 2021, and then got a booster in December. I’ve also continued to wear a mask when I’ve gone out to the store though, it must be noted, I obviously have not been masking up to play hockey. The person with whom I was walking in Quiet Waters tested negative; the friends with whom I saw David Byrne’s “American Utopia” in New York City the weekend before both tested negative; no one I skate with has said anything about having Covid recently (though I know at least one player has never been vaccinated).

So I don’t know how or where I got Covid. In fact, I sometimes wonder if maybe I’ve had it all winter and just not known. There were a couple of hockey games this winter where I felt really exhausted, more so than usual, but I wrote that off to being 56-years-old and chasing a bunch of 20-somethings around. And no one else in the locker room came down with the damned virus so it wasn’t like there was an outbreak about which to be concerned. Hell, maybe the test I’ve done have all been false positives, though that seems mathematically unlikely. But since I continue to test positive I’ve essentially locked myself down: I skipped all hockey this week, I’ve not gone out for food and I’ve avoided all contact with other people. But to reiterate: I feel better than I would if I’d had a common cold. I have an occasional cough, I cough up a smurf or two upon waking first thing in the morning, but there’s been no fever, no headache, no change in my senses of smell or taste, no bodily aches and pains, no nothing. If not for the tests I’d be living my life as I normally do. Apart from that 20-minute period last Saturday I have felt perfectly fine and perfectly normal.

So again I say: oh well. I will continue to test and as soon as I get a couple of negative tests I’ll go back to normal living. And if the positive tests persist, I may go to the county testing facility and get a PCR test.

But other than that, Mrs. Lincoln, how was the play?!

Oh, how I’ve missed Pipe’s Cafe in Cardiff-by-the-Sea

I kid. Let me be perfectly clear: I’m not bemoaning these injuries one bit. Shit happens. I live an active life and wouldn’t have it any other way. And compared to 99.9 percent of the world, I am the picture of health. Yeah, I’m fat as hell, my eyes are going and my hair (oh, my hair!) is thinning, but a friend just had quadruple-bypass surgery and Bruce freakin’ Willis is retiring due to medical issues. I got it easy and pretty damned good. I was just highlighting what have been the biggest issues I’ve faced in the past seven months.

Because on the flip side, there’s a ton of really awesome stuff going on. To wit:

* Further has had all the standing rigging — the mast, the rod/wire that holds it up, the stuff on the mast, etc. — repaired, replaced, refinished and painted. It looks awesome and will get put back on the boat (they’re mostly done but are waiting for a few parts because, well, that’s the nature of the marine industry in Annapolis) in a couple of weeks. Cross your fingers…
* Further also has nice, new lithium-ion batteries which, once the new arch that holds not just the one existing solar panel but also a new, second solar panel along with the existing wind turbine, is installed, will mean a LOT more electrical power on board…which means less need to be in a marina or run the engine
* And Further also boasts new, current electronic navigation that replaces the obsolete (and barely functioning) stuff that was in the nav station
* Oh, and I pulled out the aft head (toilet, for you landlubbers, in a process that was, umm, odiferous) and will be putting in the composting head I bought back in the fall

La Jolla Sunset: Not a bad way to do a corporate retreat

But all the good news is not just boat-related. The new job is going well. Our six-man crew gathered in La Jolla in late January to sort things out for the coming year and we have a solid future in a key part of the world economy. I’m excited about what lies ahead.

On top of that, I tacked on three days before and three days after our summit to spend some personal time in my old stomping ground of North County San Diego and had a ball. The weather was amazing, even by San Diego standards, and we even had a solid swell while I was there (though my shoulder injury and the fact that I hadn’t surfed since March 2021 made for challenging surfing on my part). I really do enjoy that part of the world and miss living there, but the reality is housing there is ludicrously expensive and I also forgot just how many people there are in the area: in the water, on the beach, in the stores and restaurants, on the roadways. It’s a zoo! No surprise, really. I mean: who wouldn’t want to live in paradise. But escaping the hordes is too difficult for me to ever live there again, I suspect. And that’s all right. I had a great run in San Diego and cherish my time there.

January sunset at my old stomping grounds: Seaside Reef in Solana Beach

As for where I’ve been living THIS year: When the new job came down the pike, I decided I would either live aboard and rent some office space or move ashore and get an apartment from which to work. I chose the latter since the thought of living aboard in a cold climate once again was not very enticing. That decision also turned out to be the right one when I decided to have all the work done on Further, requiring her to be pulled from the water for the winter.

The apartment is in a complex so it’s pretty sterile, but it’s also just what I needed: there’s a nice kitchen, a shower I don’t have to share with a bunch of other liveaboards, my own washer and dryer, and the coup de grace: a small loft area that has served as my office.

In early October I flew up to New England, rented a U-Haul and brought down my bed, my desk, kitchen stuff, clothes and so forth — all of which had been in the house at Plum Island. I supplemented that with a few things from Ikea and had a nice, cozy place for the winter. That we had really no winter here in Annapolis (other than one snowstorm right after New Year’s Day) meant things were pretty cushy. In fact, my apartment is on the fourth floor and faces south; it gets so much sunshine that I had to run a fan by my desk for much of the winter and only turned on the heat three or four times the entire season.

All things considered it’s been a pretty good winter. I’ve had a ball playing hockey (despite my injuries), I’ve gotten rolling on my new job and Further is well along in her refit. The few bumps along the road have been relatively minor and I really can’t complain. I lead a charmed life and for that I am eternally grateful.

Salud! Here’s to making 2022 better than the past two $%#%# years

So. That’s a couple-thousand words to get you caught up. If you’re still awake, thanks for indulging me as I seek to get my writing chops going again. Today’s goal was just to get the physical muscle memory going. In the coming days I hope to get the psychological and emotional stuff going too. I hope you’ll stay tuned.

A New Path

Things are lookin’ up. The fortune cookies said so.

Dinner on a recent evening was takeout Chinese food enjoyed on the foredeck of Further beneath a sterling twilight. That Annapolis had to endure an honest-to-god tornado a day or two earlier—seriously, the damage the twister left behind was really impressive to these genteel East Coast eyes—was a small price to pay…THAT’S how gorgeous an evening it was.

And I hadn’t had American-Chinese food in ages. So as I always do, I ordered WAY too much: a little egg-drop soup to warm up, a few spare ribs, some kung pao chicken and a bucket of pork fried rice. I washed it down with a couple of pilsners and savored Venus low in the west with Jupiter and Saturn rising opposite her in the east, while grooving to the tunes of my favorite washed-up band from the Bay Area. All in all, a sublimely transcendent evening.

Of course, the coup de grace of any takeout-Chinese meal comes at the end with the prophecy of the fortune cookie. And the one perk of having ordered so much damned food (other than leftovers the next day) was the three, count ‘em: three, fortune cookies they gave me. And prophecy they did. You can see in the attached photo what my future holds, according to these sage snacks.

In keeping with what the cookies predicted, I’m here to tell you that yours truly is on a new path. He is, for the first time in, well, quite a while, a full-time W-2 employee.

I’ve joined the Brand Safety Institute and will be helping to build out the organization’s content. Check out the site and you’ll see the BSI has a broad-reaching mission and will be creating content to reflect and inform that mission. We’ll be presenting more and more content on a variety of platforms that informs and helps entities prevent and address the myriad ways bad actors and just plain oversights can have a negative impact those entities’ brands. Stories and information, yes, but also curricula and community will all be vital weapons as the online world seeks to make digital interaction better, safer and more productive.

Post-tornado signs in the Maryland sky point to a bright future.

I’m excited to be back using what I believe are my skills and experience in an effort to help people lead better lives. I did that at Citysearch and I did that at Active. And with so much of today’s life taking place online, if I can contribute to people and organizations making that aspect of each day’s activity better, then I’ll be pleased and proud.

One factor of the position is both exhilarating and daunting: it’s a remote position. Two leaders of the BSI aren’t very far away and live in northern Virginia, over on the other side of D.C. from where I am here in Annapolis. Another team member, and the former colleague and dear friend who connected me with the BSI, is in San Diego. The fourth BSI employee is in Utah. And along with me, the BSI hired a former multimedia journalist and TV news professional who’s in Austin; Victor and I will be doing the content work going forward.

The remote aspect of the position, I must confess, had me very excited when I first started talking to the BSI. My initial thought was: “Great, I can move home to Newburyport and take Further with me.” And that may yet happen. But Annapolis, of course, has plenty of very attractive aspects to it, and I’m enjoying living aboard again (now that the heat and humidity have relented somewhat). I even considered some outliers as potential landing spots, including Florida (I know, I know; but there’s no income tax there), Rhode Island (good surfing, good sailing and I know there’s hockey there) and Norfolk, Virginia (the bay doesn’t freeze there, I’d be 25 minutes from surf in Virginia Beach and two hours from the Outer Banks, and there’s hockey there too).

In the end, though, I realized that I need to focus on the job. I need to kick ass and take names, as the saying goes, and get back into the groove of being the aforementioned full-time W-2 employee. And once I’ve kicked ass and taken names, then I can think about how best to take advantage of the remote aspect of the job.

So with that in mind, I’m weighing the decision between Annapolis and Newburyport.

Naptown is where I am right now and I have a good group of friends here and I’m loving skating with the guys twice a week. I’ll be able to sail all winter if I want and there are plentiful resources for working on Further. And if I exert some effort I can get to the Maryland/Delaware coast for surf periodically, with occasional trips to the Outer Banks which are only six hours away.

Newburyport is home. Newburyport has the ocean on a daily basis. And believe it or not, taxes in Massachusetts are lower than in Maryland (not by much but definitely lower). Sailing season is much shorter there and the resources are much scarcer for getting work done. And one of great joys of my Newburyport life, the Vets Skate in Exeter, N.H., is no more. But again, it’s home and Plum Island and the Atlantic and, well, all of my stuff is in a storage unit in nearby Seabrook, N.H.

So that’s the quandary I’m wrestling with right now after having taken the next step in my life’s journey. I’m stoked about this path’s opportunities and excited to apply myself to perform above and beyond in pursuit of the BSI’s mission. Stay tuned and I’ll keep you posted.

An Ounce(?) of Prevention

Being the fashion maven I am, I’m all about accessorizing…so my masks sports two things near and dear to me: sticks-and-pucks and the Grateful Dead.

I’ve taken to wearing a mask again whenever I’m inside, despite the fact that I’ve been fully vaccinated since the first day of June. I haven’t been totally diligent about it: I meet a bunch of friends for brunch most Saturdays; I play hockey twice a week; I went to a friend’s birthday party yesterday—and at none of those events do/did I wear a mask.

Sidebar: Playing hockey while wearing a mask was BRUTAL. I’m SO glad that’s over. It may not be wise to breathe heavily in a cold atmosphere with fifteen other guys but, man oh man, I’m slow enough as it is. I don’t need the added stress of not being able to gulp lungfuls of air as I chase a bunch of 20somethings around the ice.

But when I head into the supermarket or a marine-supply store, yup, I cover up my mouth and nose with a mask. Doing so seems a small price to pay (as it did for much of the past year-plus) to help stop the spread of the Covid virus.

Am I overreacting? And is that an example of a hypochondria on my part?

I ask because someone at yesterday’s birthday party cried out an exasperated retort of “Covid’s over!” during a discussion of concert-going in the current environment and I was horrified. This same friend a couple of months ago derided my then pre-vaccination decision not to attend an indoor party saying, “Oh, that’s right. You’re worried about Covid.”

Damn right, I was worried about Covid. I’m still worried about it; not so much personally as I am worried about what the impact on the economy and on society as a whole will be as great swaths of moronic (yes, moronic) Americans refuse to get vaccinated. The same people who love the science that gives them mobile phones and the ability to fly across the country refute the science that eradicated deadly afflictions like measles and polio. Sorry, no picking and choosing, folks. And don’t get me started on assholes like Bobby Kennedy, Jr. People like him…argh! Drives. Me. Fucking. Nuts.

But… And you knew there was going to be a “but”…

On yet another scorching weekend recently, I watched as scores of people frolicked in Chesapeake Bay. Paddling SUPs, waterskiing, swimming—folks were finding any way to escape the heat and humidity that have plagued the region this summer. And while I have SUPped on the bay (and even in the gnarly water of Back Creek in Annapolis) and I snorkeled in the bay to free a line wrapped around my boat’s propellor a few years ago, I do all I can to stay OUT of the water. I’ve heard countless stories about Chesapeake watermen—people who are on the water day in and day out, and whose very lives depend on the bay—who carry a bottle of bleach with them so that if they get a cut while working their crab pots they can immediately (and undoubtedly painfully) douse the wound to prevent the nasty waterborne illnesses possible around here. Hell, a good friend’s first remark upon hearing that I’d gone into the water to free the line from my prop was, “When was your last tetanus shot?”

The inability—or rather, my personal refusal—to be able to sail to a secluded cove, drop anchor and jump overboard for water fun is what I dislike most about Chesapeake Bay. That is why I will likely relocate when the opportunity arises, along with the fact that I just plain miss the ocean.

But clearly some folks spend entire lives in the bay and are none the worse for wear. And some intelligent friends think Covid is all a scam. So again I’m forced to ask myself: am I overreacting? I’ve never been a hypochondriac and I’ve played through some pretty painful injuries over the years. But am I wimping out as I age?

I don’t believe I am but what do I know? Should I just throw caution to the wind and be like those hordes of people cramming into bars in the Ozarks as if everything’s normal? That seems a tad selfish to my mind, but not worrying about the small-percentage possibility I might contract a virus I’m vaccinated against also seems to fit into my desire to live a fun-filled, adventurous life. Can the concepts of self-preservation and societal responsibility fit in with my hedonistic tendencies? I truly wonder every day as I see maskless folks gathered together or when I see parents letting their kids swim up in some murky creek off the Chesapeake. Am I missing something?