Sailors and officiating volunteers (four generations of us) gathered
for the second time this season for the annual whimsical “sock burning” ritual
to which most of us gleefully added masks to the items to be burned (sailing clubs all over the country have such an event to celebrate barefoot season).
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"This is fun!"
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Our first attempt on June 6th was rained out. Funny thing about our second attempt: It had been a beautiful sunny day until we
gathered, had snacks laid out on the table, chairs arranged, fire ready to go,
etc. Then suddenly, thunder, black
clouds and a big red system on the radar had us rushing inside Arlene’s house
where for the second time in several weeks we filled her living area with
chairs, coolers, bodies, etc. Talk about
a gracious hostess! The best we can
figure, the “curse of the masks” was spurning the burning and was not going to
go quietly. Sailors must adapt to
changing conditions, so we took a different “tack”. We put a bin in the middle of the room and
had our ceremonial reading of poetry as we tossed the nasty items into the bin. And no social distancing. Take THAT nasty
“Rona”!
An actual burning of the contents of the bin was to be
performed later by a volunteer “incinerator” who would have fewer event
logistics to contend with. He promised
proof of the burning would be provided. However, he has reported mysterious
interferences to getting the task accomplished. Revisit this post for the eventual proof the
socks and masks were turned to ashes.In the meantime:
The actual incineration
remains in the imagination
until we receive convincing
documentation.
We are incredibly grateful to Arlene Truex, harbormaster of
the Grandview Yacht Club’s “home port” for opening her home to us.
Here are the poems read at the event:
Yippie!
Its sailing
season again!
And so there
flows from my pen
a poem to sea
dogs courageous,
applause for
their tactics outrageous,
and cheers for
all yachtsmen who win
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A masked man with a mask made of socks and binder clips read the following poem:
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Why did Clyde’s
coworkers find his appearance so shocking?
He knew with
Covid we sought virus blocking.
(Zoom
meetings were routine At home in quarantine)
It wasn’t his
“no pants” but that mask he’d made with wool stockings!
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Arlene reads her prose
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Oh say do you
see, it’s a mask that I have.
Its been
inconvenient for a year,
so should I
shed a tear,
or jump for joy
as into the fire it goes.
A little of
both I believe,
for it kept me
safe and I didn’t get sick, allowing me to write this prose.
Goodbye little
mask,
you did what I
ask!
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Into the bin goes Julia's mask
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Once we all had
masks to wear,
but its hard to
get enough air.
Now we are
free!
I say this with
glee!
And hope that
you agree with me.
------
There once was
a girl from MD
Who loved to
spend time on the sea.
“I would love
to sail”
she would say
with a wail,
“but at least
I’m on the boat “Committee””.
------
There once was
a lady named Mimi
who fit in a
turquoise bikini
when she was
younger
(she suffered
from hunger).
Now she eats
pasta and blini
(or now
swallows an olive martini).
-----
With these
masks we have all gone a bit beserk.
I’m not sure
they really work.
But to keep
people at ease and not be a jerk
the mandate I
did not shirk.
But now that
I’ve been vaccinated,
It’s time for
these blasted masks to be incinerated!
-----
These socks
I’ve worn all winter long.
Their odor is
so strong,
to keep them in
circulation would just be wrong.
Because even
after washing
they are still
in need of tossing.
A more fitting
end to them, from the GYC I am learning
is to celebrate
their burning
A contrary attitude toward this mask burning glee was expressed poetically:
When my life is
at stake
I’ll use a mask
and distance make.
To help the
situation
I won’t burn a
possible solution…. I’ll wear it.
