The last days have been spent doing condo stuff. Most of it was stuff away from the condo like arranging cable and internet, making some purchases of electronics and furniture, etc.
But at the end of the day, I've usually been at the condo. There's a person one of the movers noticed on Monday and pointed out to me, a solitary surfer on Tumon Bay. I know, you're thinking, This is supposed to be the big hotel area and there should be all sorts of people out on the water, right?
Well, this surfer is out there after everyone else has come in for the day and returned their sail boards and paddle boats, and have snorkeled their last snorkel. The sun's come down, and the water's cooled, and everyone's back in their rooms, washing the sand and salt off in preparation for the evening, whether it's a trip out to the bars or a nice dinner or just bumming around. So, this man or woman's out there after everyone's gone home. The beach is his or hers, and they're the only figure out there. And, well, they're on a surf board, which in an of itself in Tumon Bay is kind of rare.
You see, at the mouth of the bay, there's this big coral reef. It's where the big waves happen, so it's probably dangerous and most people don't surf this bay. But this person has the last two evenings. He or she is either very good, very dedicated, very risky, or some combination of the three.
He or she simply is determined to surf, and has chosen to surf Tumon Bay, and damn the consequences.
I don't know who this person is. Part of me doesn't want to spoil the anonymity of the image by finding out. Because it's kind of nice to look out there and see someone with that kind of passion that outstrips caution, that alloy of recklessness and skill that lets them go out at what I have to believe is high tide and face the reef.
I don't surf. Just don't have the balance, really. But I've always loved the idea of it. The combination between balance and yoking the power of the sea to your will. The massive amount of physics calculations brought down to instinct and raw near-instantaneous reasoning.
I think I identify with that surfer in some ways. I'm out on the hairy edge of things, having taken a path most people wouldn't have. And there is a solitude to it, too, that I've spoken of once or twice recently. Often enough, I view it as a negative effect of the whole thing. But I look at how often the military had me packing up and moving, and I can't imagine anyone else going through it with me, particularly if it was because I was dragging them along with me.
But when I look back, I don't regret the decisions. Sure, sometimes I regret some things those decisions caused to happen. A friendship guttering out due to distance, a romantic moment doomed by deployment. A favorite restaurant or watering hole that's now a thing of memory (Yes, Bee's Knees, I miss you and your Pad Thai, and yes, Blue Iguana, I miss you for several reasons as well). Some of these places and people change or disappear in the lost time. They move, they close up shop, they get new management that changes the character of the place (I miss you, 1990s Cherry Street), and in the end, you come back to visit the old stomping grounds and you discover home isn't there anymore.
I think that's part of the reason I'm so rabid about keeping in touch with people right now. Clear over here on the other side of the world, I'm afraid out of sight is out of mind, and when I come back, everyone will have moved on. I think one of the first lessons on the path to adulthood is when we realize that stuff happens even when we're not in the room, that we are not the main character in some drama that unfolds strictly for our own entertainment. That first time a pet dies while you're at school, or you find out Gramma isn't going to be at Christmas this year because she passed away and no one told you.
I've noticed of late that some friends have withdrawn a bit, but are in small ways letting me know they're still there. A few have actually stepped things up a notch, whether because of recent reacquaintance or maybe just due to the topics of discussion. Some of it has to do with recent trips I've made, recent people I've seen in the flesh, as it were.
But sometimes, we renew a tie and take for granted that it's a two-way street. That the importance you place on it is the same importance I place on it. I wrote before about the importance I place on friendships. Even the little ones.
So, sometimes, I overdo it. I don't do so with any underhanded intent. I literally just want to be involved, to contribute. I'm the type of person who can eat lunch at the same place, the same meal, the same time, for weeks on end, then suddenly change and do the same thing someplace else. It's who I am. It's how I manage to deal with six or seven months out to sea on something hazed gray, or two years on the backside of the world, waking and working while you all are sleeping.
An aside here: At my last duty station before leaving the Navy, my name became a verb. To Gharst something up was to either 1) Dress it up in a very cool and ornate presentation, layered in big words when five minutes on a marker board with plain talking would suffice or 2) To over-analyze something to the point where you've got things backasswards.
So, don't Gharst it up, folks. Sometimes a comment is just a comment. If there's something I want to tell you, believe me I'll tell you. I'm not big on keeping how my thoughts or feelings on important issues quiet. I'm pretty much an open book in that regard.
That being said, I feel sometimes a little like this Solitary Surfer. Sometimes, I'm out there against the odds, and it's a thing to behold. This life has never been dull for me, in spite of the occasional losses along the way. But it's my path. It's my way. And while sometimes I run risks and those risks come home to roost, I also have some great rewards.
My tombstone's probably going to read Lived In Interesting Times. It wasn't just my decisions that brought me to and through those times, though, but it was also the friends and loved ones watching from the beach while I surfed over the reef.
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Now, onto less philosophical and reflective matters.
I bought a HD video camera yesterday. It's charging at the condo as we speak. It is my intention, sometime this weekend, once the laundry's been done a bit and the cluster-frak of move-in clutter has been reduced to something less than hideous, to do a video tour of the place, so look for that either late this weekend or sometime next week.
I also spent a good deal of time figuring out how to re-connect my desktop computer. Some folks have probably noticed I'm a little slow at certain times to respond despite having just been present in a conversation thread, or tried to skype me only to discover I'm quite choppy and poor quality. It's a combination of crappy hotel internet and this laptop never being meant for this level of sustained activity. The desktop is set up so as to afford me a very nice place to do my writing, blogging, and communications with family and friends, with a great view, and lots of horsepower. So, things will be improving in those respects.
We met our next door neighbors the other day. The wife and her daughters brought over some donuts while we were moving in, and yesterday we met her husband. Well, I re-met the guy, but he doesn't remember me from the five minute conversation we had last year. He's the owner of two of the nicer bars at the bottom of the hill, and invited us to pop in, grab a beer, and get to know each other better.
It's kind of nice to have a cool neighbor. I've only ever had one or two neighbors that I knew and got on well with (yes, Downstairs Sarah, you're numero uno), so it's still a novel experience for me.
I'm getting pretty psyched about finally being done with the hotel thing. I think part of what's been quietly driving me nuts is that sense of being unsettled, and last night I started figuring out where the photos and paintings would go, set up the bookshelves, etc, and the place started feeling like my own.
It isn't done yet. Not by a long shot. But it's damn close. And I don't mind telling you, it's like a weight's lifted.
Running in the early morning or late evening is the vogue around here, as the runners thereby avoid the worst of the heat and humidity. I reckon once we're settled, I'm going to have to pick out a route and get my jog on. Not sure which time of day will be the best for me, but we'll see.
Nobody decided to put forward names for the condo as yet, despite some serious readership upticking. Either I've got a few new readers or some folks think the previous entries are worth a re-read.
Tomorrow, vehicle inspection for Slavka the Jeep, followed by DMV for registration, tags, and license. The drivers licenses over here are...colorful. If I can find a way to blank out personal info and thereby prevent identity theft, I might share once I've got it. Tonight, maybe dinner at the Brazilian steakhouse. We shall see....
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