I proudly admit to being a member of the TV Generation. I grew up with Leave it to Beaver, The Brady Bunch (I identified with Jan), my all time favorite The Andy Griffith Show, and later on The Mary Tyler Moore Show, Carol Burnett, and of course Saturday Night Live.
For a fat teenager with thick glasses, frizzy hair, and acne, TV can be a great companion when all your friends have dates for the weekend.
Before we moved on board the first thing I did each morning, even though Hans thinks it's total fluff, was turn on The Today Show (I love Meredith Viera). "You call that news?" he would call out from the safety (especially if I hadn't had my coffee yet) of the kitchen.
We do have a TV on board but since but since it's an energy sucker and we're watching our batteries like maniacs, it rarely gets turned on. We have the paperbacks that we bought for fifty cents each at a library sale, board games, and now my favorite; binoculars.
I bought Has a set of Steiner's a couple of years ago never knowing they could be so entertaining. We've watched hawks sitting proudly atop masts as they stake out their next prey, gazed in awe at the ungainly yet graceful flight of herons, and peeked into Osprey nests hoping to catch sight of new babies. One day I watched a sailor march his dog to the bow of his boat where the pooch promptly did its business. I thought Hans should dinghy on over and ask how the hell he managed to train his dog so well but he refused.
Then during our 'stranded at anchor' weekend I noticed a fellow boater was spending a lot of time rowing to and from his boat via his dinghy. Each time he left he had a full pouch at his feet and I was fascinated.
Me (feeling all Grace Kellyish in my own version of Rear Window): That guy's been going back and forth from his boat to land all day long. What's up with that?
Hans looking up from the Nigel Calder book that he should have read before this voyage: Huh?
I repeat my question.
Hans: He's probably getting supplies.
Me still peering through the binoculars: I think he murdered someone and he's getting rid of the body parts.
Hans gazing into space with that 'I have an idea look': I wonder if we could use the dinghy to tow the boat to that dock.
The next morning I caught Hans with the binoculars.
Hans: Take a look.
I almost choke. The man with the body parts bag has just brought a woman on board his boat and he's hauling up his anchor.
I spend the rest of the day preparing my speech for the local news casters (maybe I'll even get on The Today Show and meet Meredith) detailing my suspicions about the man who becomes known as the Back Creek Killer after he's discovered disposing of yet another body. I also hope we get to shore so I can wash my hair first.
Imagine my disappointment when I wake up the next morning to see the killer's boat reanchored and his date very much alive and sporting a perky little straw hat.
Hans: See? I told you he wasn't a killer.
Me, with the binoculars trained on another boat: Did you notice that monohull over there? I'm positive there's someone on board because I've seen lights down below every evening, but no one ever comes above! I wonder what's going on?
This morning I couldn't find the binoculars, and my Rear Window DVD is missing.