Sea Monk-ey

Today, I went to a little beach front community about an hour East of DC, to look at a house I may rent. As soon as the smell of the Ocean air hit me, I felt a joy that I hadn't felt in a long time. Standing on the front porch, my heart began to bound in time with the waves breaking on the shore of the neighborhood beach. Your monkster is indeed smitten, but then again, when it comes to the water, I always was.

I love the ocean, I love the beach, I love being in the ocean. I still remember how shocked the lovely redhead was last year, when she witnessed an ecstatic Michael frolicking in the waves of the Gulf of Mexico, when we visited her Texas hometown. "I've never seen you this happy", to which I replied "sure you have, 'cause I feel almost as happy as the first time you said I love you" (yes, the monkster was once quite a charmer).
Today I walked on the beach, went up to the cute lil' Catholic church for Mass, and then strolled along the tiny boardwalk. I don't know if I can handle such a calm lifestyle, after being a city boy for most of my life, but I think I'm willing to take a chance. I also hope to fix up the little place, so friends can visit, and maybe even have a lil' beach party if any NY writers should chose to move down our way.

Well it's not a done deal, and I haven't prayed on it yet, so with that, I leave you the words of the wise old prophets of the sea.

"Oom-oom-oom-oom-ooma-mow-mow
Ooma-mow-mow, papa-ooma-mow-mow
Papa-ooma-mow-mow, ooma-mow-mow
Well don't you know about the bird?
Well, everybody knows that the bird is the word!
A-well-a bird, bird, b-bird's the word
Surrrrrrrrfin b-b-bird!"