Seasons are tough. Some, like Vivaldi, say that there are four seasons. Indeed, many moderate-latitude locales experience four seasons, although there are apparently two Four Seasons in Philadelphia…both the Four Seasons Hotel and Four Seasons Total Landscaping. It seems as if some Fuzzy Bunny mixed them up and took the show up to, what is that? Tacony? Bravo, sir. For me, there are only really two seasons: sailing season and non-sailing season. While now may be the winter of our discontent in many ways, autumn is the spring of my discontent as it relates to the end of the summer of my sailing season.

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I was going to call this “Winds of Change,” but I have Martin Amis’s The War Against Cliché on my reading list, and decided to preemptively stop myself at its potential behest. This may be equally unoriginal, or at least uninspiring, but I’d rather go with bland than have it titled like a mediocre prog album by trying to jam the word “entropy” in there. “Winds of Change” would probably have given me all the wrong sort of SEO anyway, when the famished Scorpions fans came sniffing around for hot gossip.

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I don’t love the title, but I’ve been to Myers Hole a lot, and I have to keep coming up with new names. I probably learned the term “redux” (from the Latin verb reducere, meaning “to lead back”) when they released the extended cut of Apocalypse Now, but in ancient Rome, Fortuna Redux was also the form of the goddess of luck who helped travelers return from long and dangerous voyages. She was often depicted as carrying a cornucopia and a rudder, which is at least vaguely nautical.

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