Dad, Viviane, Kiddo and me at the lake. We stop at a lakeside cafe for lunch. We're waiting for our food, and I see three gorgeous Greek-God specimens of young male jumping off a dock. I appreciate the view for a moment.
But then they find a huge slab of styrofoam padding floating out from under the dock. That padding was banned at the lake a few years ago, Viviane says, because it breaks free and pollutes the water and the wildlife tries to eat it and it kills them. But there are still some docks that haven't been outfitted with the safe plastic ballast yet.
Meanwhile, the Three Schmucks of the Apocalypse are taking turns climbing up on the slab, which is about six feet by six feet. Not satisfied with that, they start breaking pieces off and throwing them at each other.
Soon the lake water in this cove is covered with shreds of styrofoam, and they're still breaking it apart. Dad and I are getting madder and madder, watching the ducks swim by and a couple of ducklings take a peck at the pieces. They're beyond yelling distance. We debate throwing ice cubes or french fries down on the idiots from our deck cafe, but Dad points out that neither of us has the aim.
Just as we're leaving, lake police show up in their cutter. Dad and I give each other high-fives as we watch the Three Schmucks get ticketed. Someone somewhere had a cell phone and called it in. As we motored off, the little bastards were paddling about the cove with nets, scooping up the styrofoam.
Karma works, hon. We just don't always get to see it.
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2004-07-28 12:53 pm (UTC)Dad, Viviane, Kiddo and me at the lake. We stop at a lakeside cafe for lunch. We're waiting for our food, and I see three gorgeous Greek-God specimens of young male jumping off a dock. I appreciate the view for a moment.
But then they find a huge slab of styrofoam padding floating out from under the dock. That padding was banned at the lake a few years ago, Viviane says, because it breaks free and pollutes the water and the wildlife tries to eat it and it kills them. But there are still some docks that haven't been outfitted with the safe plastic ballast yet.
Meanwhile, the Three Schmucks of the Apocalypse are taking turns climbing up on the slab, which is about six feet by six feet. Not satisfied with that, they start breaking pieces off and throwing them at each other.
Soon the lake water in this cove is covered with shreds of styrofoam, and they're still breaking it apart. Dad and I are getting madder and madder, watching the ducks swim by and a couple of ducklings take a peck at the pieces. They're beyond yelling distance. We debate throwing ice cubes or french fries down on the idiots from our deck cafe, but Dad points out that neither of us has the aim.
Just as we're leaving, lake police show up in their cutter. Dad and I give each other high-fives as we watch the Three Schmucks get ticketed. Someone somewhere had a cell phone and called it in. As we motored off, the little bastards were paddling about the cove with nets, scooping up the styrofoam.
Karma works, hon. We just don't always get to see it.