Near Miss: A Boat is Named
July 16, 2010 § 2 Comments
If you know me you know I name everything that matters. Herkie the car. Loonacy the canoe. Theodore the plant. Myrtle, that weird spot on my tongue that shows up when I eat Sour Patch Kids.
I also have a tendency to freak out when swimming.
These things are only related because we just bought a new boat. The fact that it was nameless bugged me big time. Because, clearly, something like a speedboat needs a name. How else can I trust it not to drown me?
We started out thinking our boat was Miss “something.” Miss Dash? Miss Fire? Maybe. Except that every time we took it out, I got a funny feeling it was a boy. It’s hard to check on this with a boat, but I asked Brad what he thought and he agreed. Our speedboat was a boy.
Once we got that straight we set out to find the perfect name. It needed to be friendly but tough. Playful but safe. Equal parts happy and unabashedly opposed to killing or maiming. Try thinking of a name like this. It isn’t easy.
Our list of potential names felt uninspired until last Saturday when we installed our new boat launch. If you haven’t loaded a boat on a lift for the first time you aren’t missing anything at all. You should just know that it’s a sketchy process because nothing is even close to right. Instead of fitting our boat like a glove, the launch fit more like porcupine panties with pointy metal prongs that wouldn’t quit sticking out in malicious ways.
Brad and I were waist deep in the lake and trying to guide our boat onto the launch when the wind caught us sideways and started pushing the boat right into a sharp corner of our dock. I don’t think I was the only one who was worried our boat was headed for trouble.
Before I knew I was doing it, I dove into the lake, grabbed the front of our boat and swam it to safety. And I didn’t do the doggy paddle either. I swam like a totally fearless mermaid girl. Like I was saying to our boat, “Don’t worry. You are safe with me.”
While I was doing this I thought to myself, “I have to save Breezer!” If you are rolling your eyes, I know. This has all the makings of a bad made-for-TV movie about a girl and her boat. But that is what I thought so now, that’s his name. Plus, now that I saved Breezer, he owes me. Which is a quality I can appreciate in a boat.
So friends, meet Breezer. Breezer, meet my friends.
FYI– Breezer is obviously in reference to the breeze, but also, it’s the name of the padded shorts hockey players wear which we think is really Minnesotan and appropriate for a family of hockey lovers.
FYI Too- Kudos to my dad who thought of putting this name on our list of potentials in the first place.