We took our boys onto a fishing pier for their first time. This is not the ocean pier I grew up knowing (Bogue Inlet pier in Emerald Isle, NC), this is the ocean pier I got to know as a young adult when I moved to my college town (Johnny Mercer pier in Wrightsville Beach, NC).

Originally, JM pier was wood, just like BI pier, but hurricane Fran in ’96 destroyed it. They rebuilt it with concrete a few years later, but it’s now a completely different animal than it used to be. It looks more like a pedestrian bridge nowadays than a fishing pier. But there were plenty of fishers when we walked it last week.

While we walked this pier, I noted a universal fact that let’s me dispute something my brother said about my fishing in the old days.

On this post: Gone Fishin’ brogrit said:

yes, it is true. although…i seem to remember that the catch has something to do with you over handed cast….(for those of you who don’t know, you cast under handed off of a pier, which puts you hooks below out of hooking a person…or seagul……)

Every fisher on this pier, including this one ->
(he has rings in both nipples) cast into the ocean with an overhand action. No one, not a single person, used an underhand cast.

I even told Cowgrit to look and note what they were doing. (She thought I was insane for caring and wanting her to care.)

So, I can say, with recent eyewitness knowledge, that casting overhanded from a pier is the norm.

I would say something antagonizing, and do a “I’m right, you’re wrong” dance, now, but brogrit will surely respond to this post, and I don’t want to get into a back and forth argument that’ll absorb way too much time from my day when I should be doing actual work.

But I’m right, he’s wrong.

Bullgrit

On our mini-vacation last week, Cowgrit and I spent some time in the resort jacuzzi. During one of our dips, two teenage girls “joined” us. They were probably 16 years old, but they had 40 years worth of bitch in them.

From my position in the (outside, open-air) tub, I could keep an eye on our boys playing in the big pool about 10 feet away. When the girls sat down in the tub, one of them was directly across from me. I was wearing sunglasses, so she couldn’t see my eyes, and she probably thought I was staring at her. A couple of times she looked right at me, with one eyebrow raised, as if to say, “What the hell are you looking at?” But she never actually spoke to me or Cowgrit.

A couple of times, Cowgrit and I looked at each other, and though we both had sunglasses on, and couldn’t see each other’s eyes, we both knew what we were both thinking: crazy, stupid teenagers.

The two girls were jabbering on and on and on and on about stupid teenage drama. It was funny and entertaining for a while to listen to them talk. They talked about boys, about girls, about parents, about siblings, and how all those people just made their lives so extraordinarily dramatic.

But it wasn’t long before their discussion revealed their underlying personalities. They were right bitches. They were mean and spiteful. The one who was sitting directly across from me was extremely vicious towards her mother. “Idiot” and “bitch” were two words she used several times.

And they were both just evil in their chatter about other teenagers, especially other girls. They talked about telling lies about and to other girls, telling lies about and to some boys. They were generally just nasty drama instigators.

Later, I asked Cowgrit if when she was a teenager, did she and her girlfriends talk like that. No, they didn’t. I don’t remember any of my teenage friends being mean and nasty like that, either. But then, I tended to hang out with like-minded people — people who weren’t bitches or assholes. (We might have been idiots, fools, and inexperienced clods, but weren’t bitches or assholes. Usually.)

I wonder if those girls will grow out of their attitudes. Of if they’ll end up ruining someone’s life (or lives).

It’s a damn shame. There was a couple times in listening to their chatting that I thought of saying something to them, but I realized there wasn’t anything I could say that would get through to them. At best they’d just think I was an idiot for poking in their business. At worst they might have mouthed off to me or Cowgrit, and I might have had to reach over and slap a bitch.

As badly as they needed a good slap, it wouldn’t have been good for me, in the end.

Bullgrit

I woke up on my own unusually early this morning. I very slowly and very quietly got up and made my dark way to the den of our hotel room. I slowly and quietly opened the curtains to the windows. Then I sat down on the sofa and watched the sun rise over the Atlantic ocean.

I haven’t seen the sunrise over the beach in many years. It’s really a thing of beauty to watch.

And right now, as I type this, at quarter after six, I hear Cowgrit and Calfgrit4 getting up. They’ll be in here in a minute. So this is all I’m posting for today.

Sorry, but I’m on vacation.

Bullgrit

We were the first 30 minutes into our trip to the beach. The boys were in the back of the van reading and talking. To keep my driving interesting, I challenged Cowgrit to a game of Travel Alphabet.

Both of us immediately called out A and B, seeing the letters on the car license plate ahead of us. Hmm. This ain’t gonna work right. So I suggested we need to just use one side of the road each.

She was in full agreement that she get the right side of the highway, the side with all the road signs, and I got the left side, the side with all the backs of street signs.

“Oh crap,” I said when I realized the serious handicap I was getting.

“A, B, . . . C,” she said within a couple of seconds, getting letters off the big, clear, and numerous road signs.

Well, I’m not one to back out of a game just because I start out with bad positioning. I rose to the challenge and started looking for something on my side of the highway.

Across the median, there were many tractor-trailer trucks going the opposite direction. Most of them had company names, slogans, and other big writing on them. I managed to get a few letters off them.

Then I slowed down to a couple miles an hour below the speed limit. This let vehicles pass me in the left lane. I managed to pick out more letters from the lisence plates. I don’t mind arriving at our destination 5 minutes late if it lets me win a game. Of course, I didn’t let on to Cowgrit I was doing this. She’d rather arrive on time or early than let me win a game. She’s so selfish like that.

Pretty quickly, I managed to pass Cowgrit’s alphabet count. In fact, I blew past her like she wasn’t even trying. Within 20 minutes, I reached Z before she got K.

“Ha! I win!” I exclaimed.

“Good,” she said, “I can take a nap, now.”

She closed her eyes and laid her head back.

Hmm. Well, I still won.

Bullgrit