In the summer of 2015, my high school class joined with a couple of other classes in the years above us to have a 40 ish reunion. We all graduated from Hillsboro High in Nashville, Tennessee classes of 1975, ‘76 and ‘77. The big event was at The Vanderbilt Plaza Hotel with dinner, bars, dancing, speeches, choirs from 1975-77 and cheerleaders from 2015! What fun! We were all happy to see one another because, let’s face it, none of us have come through the last 40 years without a few stories that could qualify for Lifetime movies. Forty years has an amazing equalizing effect. We were all happy to just be alive and kicking! Especially, Kenneth Patton, who I was told had died. It was with tremendous sadness that I added Kenneth’s photo on the memory board. Wow, I thought, “I cannot believe our good looking, basketball playing friend has sailed off in the boat to heaven…” Suddenly, low and behold Kenneth tapped me on the shoulder for a dance! I said, “Good God Kenneth! They told me you were dead! Here you are looking like 3 million dollars and I think I might faint!” We all laughed and laughed. I even danced with my high school sweetheart. As we were dancing I said to him, “You were a good high school boyfriend!” He stepped back and looked at me and said, “Well, you were a TERRIBLE girl friend!” Me: Ummm….gulp…and wtf… wait…what?
And then I remembered. The boats. Ah yes, the boats. I stepped back from dancing and said, “oh yeah, the boats, sorry.” Then, I walked off, well, I really kinda of slumped off, and went to the restroom and took a fearless moral inventory about the boats. He. Was. Not. Wrong.
All through high school, if I was invited to go on a boat I would go!Boat owner#1: “Hey Celeste, want to go water skiing with me and my family on Center Hill Lake on Saturday?” Me: “Why yes I do! Thank you very much! What time will we get home?”Boat owner #1: “probably not until about 9:30 or 10 pm”Me: “great!” In my mind: “uh oh ~ gotta cancel that 7:30 date.”
Boat owner #2: “Hey Celeste, want to go down this crazy river on my parent’s boat this weekend?”Me: “Why sure I do!”In my mind: “uh-oh, gotta cancel again.”
Boat owner #3: “Hey Celeste do you want to go for a week with my mom and dad and brother to a lake house?”Me: “is there a boat at the lake house?”Boat Owner #3: “Why of course! A ski boat!”Me: “I’m in!”
Boat Owner #4: “Hey Celeste, do you want to go skiing on the Monday of our study day, you don’t need to study do you? The boat is old so bring some cash in case we have to get towed back.”Me: “Who needs a study day? I’ll bring snacks and cash! We will get back about 10 pm right? “Boat owner #4: “How did you know?”
You see friends, you get caught between a rock and a hard place. You have to choose between the boat you are going to be in for the day, for the college, for the marriage, for the election and for your life.
My father, God bless his precious and hilarious soul, was ironically, terrified of water. He didn’t want us near water, pools, lake houses, rivers or boats. He was extremely over protective and even made us come inside if someone in the neighborhood was mowing their yard because he was afraid we would get hit in the head with a rock. Telling my father I was going to spend the day on a boat took finesse. I left that finesse up to my mother. Getting in these boats with elements of potential danger, must have made me feel like a little bit of a bad ass. It’s kind of hilarious now to think of myself as a “boat floozy” but I would indeed cancel ANY plans for the chance of riding in other people’s boats. Participating in a day on the lake left me with a great tan and new skills of water skiing. Herman Gray would have died on the spot to see me wipe out as I learned to drop a ski or to slalom ski. There is danger involved in boating and skiing but when you are 17 you DO. NOT. CARE.
Recently, my husband was complaining about attending an event. Husband: “Do we have to go?”Me: “ Why no! We don’t have to go… But, there are two boats, one boat is full of complaints, arguments, and general contankerousness. The other boat is full of hey let’s see how it goes!? Let’s have a positive attitude!”Husband: “You are no longer teaching school. Why do you do this to me?”Me: “Just pick your boat.”
So as we think of our lives, which boat are we in? Forty years after the fact, will we be proud of the boat we chose? There probably will not be another miracle, like Kenneth Patton coming back to life! However, the small miracles of the choices we make each day can create communities of generosity, acceptance and inclusivity. I want to get in the boat that gives our sons, daughters and grandchildren the most choices.
The Chocolate Drawer 