2003-09-08 4:50 p.m. You learn something important when you cook your dinner on a beach. A life lesson, really. That lesson: whatever you do, do not drop your garlic bread in the sand. You might think you can brush off all the grains, but trust me. You can't. Under no circumstances should garlic bread crack the Canines. You have been warned. This weekend, I took the charmGal down to Virginia to do a little sailing with the charmSis and the charmBroInLaw. Little, if you're curious, is the operative word here. They've got a Hunter 25, which is nice, but with the four of us, two dogs, and the addition of the charmCousin, it was vaguely reminiscent of some kind of refugee trek. Good times all around though, including the part where we were banned in perpetuity from a certain marina and the park where we ran aground. Those two incidents, by the way, are not related whatsoever. The Virginia Tidewater is beautiful. Breathtakingly so, at times. Saturday night we cooked out and bonfired on a beach close to where we were staying. Miles of water to the front of me, the stars and Glorious Mars above me. Meat grilling on an open fire next to me. Life, it seems, is very good. Missed the NFL, missed Bush's speech. Both are for the best, I suppose. Had I been near a TV, I would have watched. Today my stress level would have been somewhere in the upper stratosphere. I love football, but I have a hard time letting go of the fumbles, the interceptions, and the losses. It wouldn't have helped at all watching the Ravens get annihilated. Bush's speech, well, let's just say I'm a little politic'ed out for the moment. It's not that I dislike the man or disagree with his Iraq policy. I don't. I have my questions and concerns, but by and large I understand and agree. It's just that speeches like the one last night strike me as a skosh unnecessary. Don't tell me you're doing a good job. Show me. Real leaders aren't their own cheerleaders. They don't have to be. downtown----uptown leave me a note, fool!

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