Sand, Solitude and Poor, Poor Lonely Me

   Written by on May 11, 2017 at 3:11 pm

Original Run Date: July 8, 2010

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.

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.

This past weekend was Management’s family getto-gather at the beach. By my thinking, a perfect beach weekend involves getting up early, sitting on the porch overlooking the water and drinking coffee, playing in the surf, eating seafood, visiting with family, romancing Management and getting sand all over everything. In my opinion, this weekend was less than perfect. Management, on the other hand, had a wonderful time. Whenever we are planning a trip something always happens to delay our leaving. As usual it happened again this year. Saturday morning, I was sitting on the porch overlooking the water and drinking coffee and contemplating what was missing. The waves were missing, the seagulls were missing, the salt water was missing and most importantly, Management was missing. I was sitting on our porch at home drinking coffee while Management was sitting on the porch at the beach drinking coffee. Several things came up that required my personal attention so she went to the beach without me. I was glad she could go but frankly an Averett without Management is a sad thing. Try to imagine Clyde without Bonnie, Marc Antony without Cleo, Napoleon without Josephine, Adam without Eve… I got almost everything done but without Management there is an empty spot in my world. I can prove that with my mother’s photo album. There are holes cut in most of the pictures of me that were taken in my pre-Management days. I did get more than my share of sand while I wasn’t at the beach. I had to sand blast a part for my uni-goround. Any fool knows you should never sand blast without a hood or you will end up with sand in places you don’t want it. Now, I’m not just any fool; I happen to be a spectacular fool. It took me over an hour to shower and I’m still finding sand in places that shouldn’t be sandy. It took me over an hour to shower and I’m still finding sand in places that shouldn’t be sandy. Historically there is ample evidence that it is unwise if not stupid to leave an Averett home alone. We have not had the opportunity to test this for 25 years. I was somewhat concerned. I seem to remember some consequences that exceeded the enjoyment experienced when I was left unattended. Actually, the problems didn’t come from being unattended, they came from being attended but unsupervised by a responsible party. I was pleasantly surprised to find I didn’t get into any trouble. Unlike my previous experiences where cleanup from an unsupervised weekend took several days, this time all I had to do was wash one coffee cup. All in all, it was a good weekend. Management left me sweet little notes where I would find them. They were dated Friday night, Saturday morning, Saturday, Saturday night and so on. Interestingly I found all but one of them in the proper order. It’s kind of nice when my bride can predict what I will be doing and where. I guess after 25 years I’m getting predictable. I have always considered myself to be predictable but everyone I know seems to disagree. I have also always considered myself to be a non-gambler, non-risk taker who never takes chances. The opportunity to discuss this had never arisen until a year or so ago. I was shocked to find that everyone who knows me well strongly disagrees with my self-assessment. I find this interesting and intend to do some self-examination sometime. In any case, I thought it might be interesting to let Management add the last paragraph on this column since apparently she knows me better than I know myself.

Management’s Note: Hmmm. He’s given me the golden opportunity to really tell it like it is, hasn’t he? By my observation, he’s pretty predictable when it comes to ordinary day-to-day living. But then again, there’s nothing ordinary in his living. I know he will be drinking coffee and unapologetically smoking cigarettes till the day he dies, but what he does between cups is anyone’s guess. That’s where life really gets interesting. He promised me before we married that our life together would never be dull. I can honestly say he has lived up to that promise and then some. These days it’s hard to find a man to stand by his word—that’s too boring or predictable. Thankfully, that’s just the kind of predictability I want!

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