The Life

The Kenny Chesney song- The Life- is stuck in my head. Please find it and listen to it as you read this and you can ride along with my good mood. (Lyrics are pasted below)

You see, I just got back from a tiny fishing island 30 miles south of Roatan, Honduras. The local fishermen with their handmade boats fed us lunch under their palm fronds on an amazingly perfect day. All I could think of is how we are connected to these happy, healthy people. We are so lucky, so blessed, as are they. We live how they live. Well, with a couple of differences.

For example, they can totally kick my ass at dominoes.

The wind, the water, the sand. Our friends, our family, our community. Our boats, good food, good times. Our love, our kids and our faith. That’s The Life.

And shrimp! Lots of shrimp over a fire with our friends after a day of sailing. Sound good? That is what we are up to this Saturday after the Spring Series #2 day. Skipper’s meeting 9:00 and there will be folks at State Park AND Shark Park, like last time. Sam and Marsha Jones will be our RC and Greg and Teresa Moerer will be at Shark Park in charge of shrimp and cervesas. Please see the attached flyer- Teresa appreciates an RSVP to tmyogamoma@gmail.com. (4 Nelsons, please!)

I will happily trade tales- let me know how the Ladies’ race went, and I may have a tall tale or two for you.

Over and out from Honduras (We were still there yesterday, so it counts!) Your sunburned Commodore with the big grin, B—ARR—y Nelson (there is a little MORE pirate in me now)

(There is a slight change to the racing schedule this weekend- check the calendar) (We have special guests coming to the lake this weekend- watch for a Borowski sighting) (Dock Box Garage Sale the following weekend- what will you be donating to the committee boat fund?)

It was early one morning Playa del Carmen That’s when I first met Jose He had a 12 foot Schooner A 3 foot cooler Full of the catch of the day

And he was wrinkled from grinning From all of the sun he had been in He was barefoot, cerveza in hand He said “Gracias senor”, when I paid him too much for All of the Snapper he had

Now I told him my friend it ain’t nothing In the best broken Spanish I knew I said I make a good living Back home where I’m from He smiled and said Amigo me too

He said I fish and I play my guitar I laugh at the bar with my friends I go home to my wife I pray every night I can do it all over again

Wouldn’t that be the life