I asked a friend “Conan, what is best in life” and got a rather good summery from her: The best of life might be a time when you have the feeling your brain is being challenged and fed everyday, without having loads of stress and fear or inferiority complexes.
Kayaking! There is absolutely no reason for me to think kayaking is a good thing, but why the fuck not? It’s not as though I have a bunch of other hobbies that compete for my attention (Note to self: It’s always sunny in Philadelphia isn’t a hobby) and there’s always the off chance that I’ll enjoy myself – God forbid – and have fun.
I know I wrote that interesting stuff is happening around me and I’m looking forwards to spring. Yes, well, that was like a week ago and the happy happy has left the way of Spongebob (and the season 4 of It’s always sunny in Philadelphia) leaving me once again pondering the meaning of life and the “get a job for summer” issue.
Lars, the happy architect I worked with at the museum last spring, is full of sage advice on any topic, and pointed me in the right direction when I asked about kayaking. I have this idea, see, where I would travel through Sweden on a kayak, using only smaller rivers and lakes. There are people paddling up the coast, but in my minds eye I see myself slowly gliding next to the riverbank with a straw in my mouth with a whistle on my lips. Whenever I felt like it I would just lean to one side and sleep on the soft and green grass; Birds chirping and strawberries within reach.
Maybe a slight exaggeration, but I’d rather call it “hope” than “lunacy.” Forrest Gump never listened to the nay-sayers, now did he? Just picture me smiling like an idiot, paddling up a river. Tell you what, I might even consider fishing if the expedition would be long. (Or does tofu keep for three weeks in a kayak?)