Clones, Brakes & Living on the Hook

The stories in this column are true. Averett lives a dull life in rural Southside Virginia with his wife Management, two children and a rotating assortment of goats, dogs, cats, snakes and other local fauna.

I’m fairly worried about our son. Last week we were having a little family get-together.  Someone asked a question and I wasn’t sure if it was directed at me or the son. When I asked I was told, “It doesn’t matter. You will both give the same answer in the same way.”

Then the accusation was made that he was a clone and we are identical. Now I admit to being proud of the son as I am proud of all our children and I even admit we have a few similarities, just as the others share some characteristics with me.  After all, it is only natural when they spent the majority of their formative years with me not to mention the genetic connection.

The daughter and I share an odd connection with Sci-Fi and other things. It’s fun. We can have a conversation that makes perfect sense but only to us.

But I am worried about the son. You would expect a young man (he’ll be 32 tomorrow) to object to being compared to his father, especially when that father is me. It didn’t seem to bother him in the least so I’m worried.

Last week we discovered that the Great Commonwealth of Virginia requires a boating license to operate a boat in Virginia. Frankly my plan, or defense if you prefer, was going to be that any vessel that costs less than one hundred dollars doesn’t count as a boat.  It is a collection of boat parts that may look like a boat but since everyone knows b-o-a-t stands for bring-out-another-thousand and that “a boat is a hole in the water that you throw money in,” I just don’t think mine counts as boats.

On the other, I do believe in titles and registrations.  In my mind it would be foolish to advertise you are out in a boat that can result in a ticket. Besides, a ticket would cost more than I paid for any of my boats and that would hurt my feelings.

My farm truck Rufus has a 2004 inspection sticker but since Farm Trucks don’t require them I’m leaving it alone. Besides, in one of the odder quirks in my character I usually keep any vehicle I have suitable for inspection even if I don’t have to. It’s just a matter of staying alive and keeping other people alive.

Once I had the brakes go out in a bee truck with a load of bees just as I had taken an exit ramp.  The rule in a case like that is “If you have to hit something avoid people first, then pick something soft and cheap.”  In the case of the bee truck I crossed the other four lane highway and stopped on the side of the entrance ramp to Highway 95.

That rule used to be just “hit something soft and cheap” until we had an incident with what appeared to be a lady of the evening standing on a corner. That was when we added “avoid people.”

After the son had fixed and tested the jet-skis in the pond he and his mother were ready to load them and take them to Buggs Island for a serious test.  I had to do some serious negotiating to get them to wait a few weeks.

Keep in mind that if anyone in the family would crowd a law it is usually me. But as I said last week straddling a motor causes the brain to malfunction.

There is a term in the sail boating community called “living on the hook.”  It means living on your boat full-time while traveling, using the anchor (the hook) to park for the night.

I am afraid that one day I’ll get home and my bride Management will have left me a note that reads, “Gone to live on the hook.” I’m not particularly opposed to the idea (as long as she takes me with her) but I’ve spent most of my life getting off the hook in one fashion or another and might have issues with it.

In any case, we are all working on getting our licenses. The Godfather just finished but he had a head start in the Coast Guard. Management is half through. I am getting ready to think about getting started sometime soon.