Barry, Chapter one, Part X

I was distracted by a variety of colorful yet confusing items as diverse as a potato bug and an F-150 pick up whose driver missed me by inches while honking his horn.  Where was I the middle of the road?  His truck was white but appeared to change colors over and over after the near-hit.

So in a flat between rises, just before the Canandaigua Yacht Club, I switched to the left side of the road.  It was close to my beloved lake, and maybe I could see cars coming better.  The sun was also different in 1972, and the heat not so pervasive.  You could easily sail, and I did, all day bare-chested without numbered SPF sun goop on (since it hadn’t been invented).  In fact we put on baby oil or Coppertone to ATTRACT more sun.

The yacht club had the largest fleet of wooden-keeled catamarans in existence, as they made fantastic racing boats on a lake where the wind changed directions all the time due to the surrounding hills.

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