The smile

I was having dinner with a friend when she judged the time right to broach a subject. “Since you won’t be paddling your racing kayak for a while, why don’t we bring it over to my place? I’d like to use it for workouts.”

“I sold it. How about one of my other boats?”

“Sold it? I thought you just got it.”

“Depends upon your perspective on the passage of time. That was a few months ago. Almost a generation on my boat calendar.”

“I thought you liked it. Why did you sell?”

“Loved it. Sold it because the girl next door got a new trumpet.”

A pained expression clouded her face. She closed her eyes and massaged her temples. “If this is another Charlie Crews thing, I don’t want hear it.” It’s her contention that the producers of the television series “Life” owe me royalties. As such, I had little choice but to stay in character and explain over her protestation.

I got home from work one night and saw one of the girls next door shoveling snow. “Congratulations on the new horn.”

If she smiled like that much harder, there’d be no snow to shovel. I understood. “Thanks! How did you know?”

“I was outside the other night and heard. I used to play.”

When you start out, you often do so with a small bore trumpet. This enables you to focus on fingering and mouth technique. Breath force and control come later. You can’t wait to graduate to a “real horn.” A small bore lacks in tone. Worse, especially for youngsters, it kind of marks you as a novice.

When you’re ready to make the leap, it’s a big deal. So, I could relate to her smile and it was a joy to see. She had worked for it and was ready to move up.

I went inside and checked the web boards I moderate. A message on a paddling board from the previous day now caught my eye and took on added meaning. A fairly young man was looking for a kayak like the one I had recently acquired, wanting to advance to the next level. He would have a tough time finding it.

First of all, they aren’t made in large numbers. While not a full out race class, this design is more specialized than most desire. Manufacturing of them just ceased, so they have become an even scarcer commodity. Likewise, this jacked up an already substantial price and might put it out of the young man’s reach. Will would have a tough time making his leap.

I got to thinking about the smile I had just seen and emailed Will a price I’m certain was much lower than he’ll find on the market, assuming he could even locate one within striking distance. In my search, most were further away than the Andromeda Galaxy or more costly than a Faberge’ egg. Ahh, he may be just tire kicking anyway.

He’s not. He looks it over well and takes the deal. He doesn’t have the proper racks and asks if I would deliver it across town. In for a penny, in for a pound.

I had a long drive to try to avoid second guessing myself about the decision to do this. He opened his garage, took the boat from my truck and placed it upon the pedestal he had carefully arranged for it. He took a couple steps back and then came that smile.

Yeah, it was the right decision.

Shortly after my good deed, a painkiller prescription ran out and I’m staring at the open space in my garage previously occupied by my water rocket. Whiskey, tango, foxtrot. What was I thinking?

Oh well. Good karma for a replacement search.