Just Call Me Steve Zissou

Howdy. A lone sail peaks up from the panoramic horizon as peaceful little waves break in a continuous hiss on the beach before me. I lick my lips and taste salt. I’d never swum in the sea until a few moments ago. A small boy in a red and blue wet suit finds a treasure in every seashell. His mother attempts to match his enthusiasm as he offers them up to her, but fails. And so he chucks each prize back into the sea.

As of today, I’m no longer gainfully employed. In my final few days on the job, I left Michigan to do a few hours of mapping in Louisville, KY. I had no idea! That place is almost as hip and weird as Madison, WI. Bardstown Road very much reminds me of State Street in Madison.

A very serious looking man in socks and sneakers passes in front of me waving a metal detector over the sand. Another man asks if he’s ever found anything good, to which he responds that he’s just recently purchased the device. However, to demonstrate its effectiveness, he reaches into his pocket, tosses a coin on the beach, and waves the sensor over the coin. He points at the display and the other man gives an affirming nod with the up-side-down smile that says, “huh… not bad!” As the treasure hunter sweeps his way further down the beach, the inquisitor doubles over with laughter as he recounts the exchange to his wife.

From Louisville, I made my way to Kissimmee, Florida via good ol’ Athens, Georgia. None of my Athens friends were in town due to it being Memorial Day weekend, so I made some new ones at a five-star establishment called “The Taco Stand.” They were serving very inexpensive Anti-Grandma Juice ($4 pitchers of Amber Bock!!) so I stayed a while (all evening).

The next day, I had a beautiful flight down the Atlantic Coast of Florida to Kissimmee, which is just south of Orlando. After settling in and realizing why Bob Schneider found the place so depressing (all the kitsch of Branson, Missouri, but on a much larger scale… and Disney-fied…), I heard a familiar voice; the one that often leads me into trouble and adventure that I’ve previously referred to as “THE DEVIL!”

“So Adam, you’re in Floooorida…” His tone seemed innocent enough.
“Yeah… So?”
“So you’re really close to two very large bodies of water…” I could tell where this was going. “You should go take a sailing lesson!”

I didn’t even argue with him this time. He was obviously right. When else am I going to be down here and have a chance to go out on the open water on a big sailboat? So I decided to postpone my return to Kansas City until Saturday. This afternoon I headed for the Gulf Coast based on the recommendation of a man at a local lunch counter. He suggested I go to Long Boat Key near Sarasota if I wanted to find a nice beach. I wish I could thank him because it’s unbelievable here.

My day-long intro to sailing is billed as the “Like a Virgin” course by Wind Song Charters in St. Petersburg. (Insert your own punch line here) I’ve got that set up for Friday and I can hardly wait.

In the mean time, I think I’ll look for one of those red and blue wet suits.