Gut Rumbles

May 03, 2007

Water skiing

Originally published February 5, 2005

I used to be really good at water skiing. I could slalom and I even tried bare-footing a couple of times. Busted my ass a lot. But I could cut quite a ruckus on the water.

I remember the time I was riding one ski and I was going hell-bent for leather when the boat pilot made a big circle in the sound. I hung out on the rope as far as I could and the ski was making a zipping noise as I skimmed over the water. That's about when I hit the wake and sunk the toe of the ski. It stopped and I didn't.

For some reason, I held onto the rope as I sailed through the air, ski-less and on my way to an ass-busting. I let go of the rope when I hit the water and it almost tore my arm off. I was going about 50 miles an hour at the time.

Let me explain some basic physics to people who don't understand busting your ass on water. Going the speed I was, I DID NOT sink quitely into the brine. I bounced like a goddam rubber ball on a concrete driveway and I PINWHEELED a few times before I finally sank. I thought I broke every bone in my fucking body. It hurt like hell.

I floated in my ski vest and had delerious dreams for a while. I saw God. I saw Moby Dick. I saw Buffalo Bob and Howdy Doody. I saw myself flying through the air like a winged angel. I don't remember getting back in the boat.

But I did, and I went skiing again. That's how stupid I am.

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