Michael J. Fitzgerald has been a journalist for 40 years, working as a writer and editor for newspapers, magazines and web publications. In 2014 he published the novel, "The Fracking War." In 2015, he published his second novel, "Fracking Justice." He writes or contributes to five blogs. He and his wife Sylvia Fox are the owners and principal partners in *subject2change Media, a multi-media firm involved in print, video and broadcast. He writes a weekly column, "Write On" for the daily 'Finger Lakes Times' newspaper in Geneva, NY. He was a journalism professor at CSU Sacramento from 1986 to 2011 teaching Newswriting, Column Writing and Magazine Writing.
PARADISE VILLAGE MARINA, Nayarit, Mexico -- I took some Sudafed NON DROWSY formula with dinner.
It's 3 a.m. and I am sitting in the cockpit looking at the moon, typing a blog, because the non-drowsy formula is more than just non-drowsy. Long-haul truck drivers should buy this by the case. Forget what I said two days ago.This stuff SHOULD require a prescription.
After tossing and turning for hours, then cleaning both bathrooms, rearranging the navigation station and wondering if my neighbors would mind if I did some sanding in the middle of the night, I opted to grab my computer, figuring that the sound of tapping keys might be less annoying than grinding and scraping.
I also wondered if I should go for a row in the dinghy and look for crocodiles, but decided to stay aboard. If this non-drowsy formula wears off suddenly, I would rather be sitting up high away from the animals than at the oars, slumped over, trailing my fingers in the water when I finally pass out from fatigue. Right now, that seems unlikely. I'm typing at about 90 wpm. Mrs. King, my high school typing teacher, would be so proud.
This is a good time to watch for crocs, however. They hunt at night and I do have some left-over chicken I could toss out in the water to salt the channel and pull them over close to my swim step. Hmmm. Probably not my best idea, but my best ideas seldom come at this hour of the morning. Or is it night?
Just after dark, I helped my neighbor dock his boat, watching him make the exact same navigational blunder I did when I brought Sabbatical in on a swiftly rising tide about two weeks ago. He swung too wide and the current carried him right past his opening, but, like me, he was determined not to make a second pass.
The sound of crunching fiberglass is soooooo sickening.
The nice thing about such landings at night, however , is that you really have to wait until daylight to get the full effect. I did Sabbatical's bump at midday and saw what I had done. But thanks to the miracle of rubbing compound and wax, my faux pas is quite passe.
And the next time I take the boat out of the slip, I'll pay more attention to the current.
Oh my God, I just had to stifle a yawn. There's hope for a nap before sunrise.|