Dinghy

Bright early morning sun and a soft wind promised a glorious spring day on Cape Cod. It was Saturday morning of Memorial Day weekend.

We had fought so much traffic in yesterday’s rush to reach the Cape, I expected to see half of America getting their boats ready. Nobody.

The dinghy looked tired, as if it stood ready all night waiting to carry its captain to his larger boat in the harbor and get this holiday party going. The dinghy needed to feel useful, like it was an integral part of the “big gala”. I wanted to pull it ashore, hoping to build its self-esteem by letting it know I appreciated its loyalty. It ignored my advances, swaying lazily in the light breeze as if to say, “Whatever.”

Thought for the Day: The vulgar crowd values friends according to their usefulness.
Ovid

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