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I've
known
John King
for almost a quarter century, ever since we were introduced in high school and bonded over shared musical interests. He's one of the main reasons I took the long way back to Seattle from Chicago via a week-long stopover in New York. I stayed in Brooklyn but managed to find my way to one beach or another 5 days running. I hear they have museums and other stuff in Manhattan but I didn't make it there until my last day, and then only to meet John for lunch near his opulent office building, built 1927 in a grand style which fell out of fashion and would be difficult to replicate today. At my and Sarah's wedding two years ago (minus a day), John paid me one of the greatest compliments when he said summer seemed to last twice as long when I was around. Well, there isn't too much to that, really; it just means I love the beach and do everything I can to share that enthusiasm. The churn and rumble of the ocean not only puts my mind at ease but it activates my body. If I could just get myself next to some warm salt water I know I'd live so much more healthy. 12 years ago, before I decided rather impulsively to follow Sarah out to Seattle, I'd been in the process of send- ing resumes to resorts and suchlike in tropical climes. That plan got detoured as our 2-year Seattle sojourn defaulted to a dozen. No regrets there, but I do wonder how much longer I can defer my salty water dream before it dries up like so much beached seaweed. |
