I like fast cars, fast motorcycles and supersonic jets as much as the next wanker, but I wouldn't want them racing around the Super Store parking lot while I'm loading my kids and my groceries into my car. Ditto for fast, noisy powerboats. N.I.M.L. There's a place for thousand horsepower, offshore race boats....
It's called offshore, Not In My Lake. Get it, Foghorn?
Some 'joker' on my lake feels the need to drive a 100 decibel, thousand horsepower rocket along our (often) peaceful shores. The sound this boat makes, acoustically, is just shy of a thunder clap. When this boat passes my property, constipated people are suddenly 'cured', but no one speaks of this miracle because....
"I can't hear you!"
It's deafening. It's appalling. It's unnecessary. It's infantile. Conversation on shore is killed for about 30 seconds while Foghorn and his chicks roar down the lake. Come to think of it, I've never seen a woman on this boat. Hmmm.
It makes me wonder who is driving this boat and why context doesn't seem to register on their brain. It's true that there are some people who just don't get it. Somewhat oddly, this power boat reminds me of an evening that I spent at a café in Oromocto a few years ago. Every Thursday evening a group of budding amateur musicians show up for open mic night at the Sour Grape coffee shop. Open mic suggests that anything goes but there's an unwritten rule that coffee shop music does not involve a tractor trailer load of amps. It involves tastefully appropriate music and the sharing of talent.
In walked Cory.
One evening a fellow by the name of Cory showed up at the Sour Grape. While Mr.Bojangles and the other pluckers sat in a circle and Kumbaya'ed their way toward enlightenment, Cory set up a one man show in the corner or the café. When he was finally ready to play, he unleashed a sonic fury that was likely heard in Maine and Quebec! He didn't stop with his one song either, it appeared that his intent was to play his Stratocaster at 10 for the length of his concert. It finally ended with the café owner pulling the plug and threatening to call the police.
For whatever reason, Cory didn't understand the quaint notion of 'context' or 'sharing'. Neither does this powerboat owner. It's all 'me, me, me'.
In my experience, people behave in this manner for a reason, though that reason is often buried under layers of feathers. It may be impressive to watch a 120 foot long rooster tail fan out behind this boat, but I think we need to look at the front of this particular rooster for answers. Something is missing. Hmmm.
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