Three dollars and eighty-two cents....

I love "The Lake." By the remote chance you've stumbled onto this blog and you live outsidea the Missouri area - we hicks here call The Lake of the Ozarks - "The Lake." We fill up our two lane highways every Friday, every year once it turns 60 degrees or so.... We repeat the procedure all Summer - and into the early Fall until virtually the first school bell rings.. Tradition.

Everyone's been - everyone has stories.. the lucky ones have a 2nd house there.. the even luckier ones have their primary house there. There's something about a large body of water that brings out the best in people...

The wise old fishermen take their Jon Boats out early to fish before the big rigs get on the water... The yuppies come out in full force mid-morning in their tri-hull "look I'm from Johnson County" (sorry Catom) bigass things that create a wake so large it would knock a sumo wrestler off a jet ski...

Noonish, the families jump on their pontoons and weave across the channel looking for a nice ride and a path of least resistance and a place to safely dive off into the lake.. maybe BBQ too...

After the Johnson County yuppies get hungry and pull back into the dock to hunt down a Sushi bar.. their kids steal the boat keys and head to Party Cove. There, liquor is downed very fast - the more that is drank, the more selected items of clothing come off to expose abs of steel and boobs by Dr. Smithton, along with a few moon shots. I pity the fat kid and the A cup gal.

No one, repeat, no one goes to bed "untired" at the lake. Hell, if the nerves don't get you from "GD Herbert, those waves are gonna capsize us" - the walks up and down the steep hills to the boat dock will. You simply go go go and forget about being tired until you sitdown at night...

My sister. I'm biased of course - but she was one of the neatest ladies on the planet. The cog to our family. The smile you always needed. The right confidence boost at the perfect time. As gooda sense of humor as Steve Martin. (She usedta get on elevators with her boss.. look at the crowd sharing the elevator.. and spit out "Oh THANK YOU, THANK YOU for pretending not to recognize her." Who was she? Vanda's boss, that's all.. Another person like you and I - but it left 'em scratchin' their heads with "whothehell was that?".......

Anyways, Vanda had an A-Frame at the lake.. Wondrous times we shared there.. Fourth of July nights perched in big ole chairs looking out her length-of-the-house glass window at Tan-Tara's Fireworks show... Terrific BBQ'ing.. Family... The best...
Vanda always had something for everyone... especially the little ones...

When "Maynard" was 3, she bought a nifty 18" tall wading pool to put on the deck to occupy the little turds time.. His older stepbrother Denton would join in as well... Late one Sunday afternoon - it was time for the procession back to our abodes - as work beckoned for all Monday.. My father put his foot edge of the wading pool to let all the water out so we could put it back in storage and Maynard simply didn't understand that. He harkened "YOU STUPID IDIOT... WASTE HIM DENT"... I shoulda taken it as a sign - instead I laughed... Age three I'm talking.

Tragedy struck, Vanda passed with breast cancer in 1999... A year or two after - I'd asked her widow if our family could come for a weekend... Sure, to enjoy the Lake - but also to feel close to Vanda... A weekend was setup - and we prepared with glee to drive down...

"Now a buddy of mine and his family will be there all week... but he should be gone by the time you get there Friday.."

We managed to pull into the A-Frame just before sunset... There on the deck.. a middle aged man sat with his hands on either side of his forehead... He was muttering something.. "thhhreeedoolllarsandeighttttyytwocents..." I figured maybe he'd combined sun/beer - and that we'd haveta fix him some coffee before he headed back home... Again "thhhhreeeedooollllarrssandeightttytwoocents" he bellowed.. I think I understood it this time... "Are you saying $3.82?"... He slumped lower.. "yeah... I am.".... I closed within a better earshot, not saying a word, only hoping he'd continue.

"You see... my son and his friend wanted to jet ski... so... we decided this morning to go ahead and rent two of 'em... They were having a blast.. My wife and I even got to play on them for awhile... all was good... Ten minutes before we were to have them back.. I hear this KABOOM and looked out... they'd collided with each other.. Neither was hurt thank God.. but the jet ski's were really really messed up."

Wow, I'm sorry about that.. but so thankful neither of the boys weren't hurt... Can I ask something? "Sure.. oh.. and we'll get outta your hair soon... what did you wanna ask?"

You were muttering "threeedoolllarssandeighhhtytwwwooocentttss" when we walked up.. what'd ya mean?

"Well... we got the jet ski's back to the place we rented them... their initial assessment was roughly $2250 worth of damage... and the $3.82 is the amount I neglected to pay to take out insurance on them." Shit, whaddya say to that?

I'm certain this chap has been back to The Lake by now - and that more good times have eased that not-so-good moment. I've been back.. I will go back again. There's just something magical about The Lake.