End of an Era
It is with a heavy tube, and a light cooler that I address you today. Although my efforts to maintain my status with the Floatilla have been noble, it is obvious that no efforts on my part alone will allow me to respectfully perform my duties as Vice Float Master from this point forward. Although the original float team has remained in tact, additions to it have placed considerable stress on MY immediate float molecule and have rendered it unable to travel at this time. If you have studied as I have the molecules delicate structure, any additions or deletions to its integrity are crucial. As all of you know, my (and my families) history on this float is considerable, but not greater than any other participant, and surely not greater than the VFM responsibilities themselves. So it is with that that I resign my duties as VFM, projecting all VFM responsabilities (with FM approval) to VFM Benson. I have confidence that VFM Benson will maintain the level of excellence we have prided ourselves on, that is of course, as long as he has a functioning watch, so he can get to the drop on time. My memories of OUR floatilla are too many to mention. I can simply say, I will replay them in my dreams this summer, until the time when our tubes can meet again, and the jello shots, flow like wine. The greatest times of my life have been spent in the waters of our glorious Comal, and in the last 2 ATM vs. tu. football games, but more so in the river…except for that 3rd quarter in ’06, man that was awesome!!! Sorry, ahhemm, missing this years MDF will hopefully put our need for the floatilla in perspective, and deem our so-called “responsabilites”, as just another thing we make time for; like the gym, or church, or some kid’s graduation from elementary school who I don’t even know. Sure Le taught him 5 years ago, but please, I have never laid eyes on him, which basically means either he had no artistic talent or his Mom was ugly. Trust me, I remember ALL the no talent retards with super hot Moms from Le’s classes. I hang their art in my office like it’s my own kid’s. Sorry again. When I think of you standing on the banks of my beloved Comal this weekend, I can only think back to all the things that I always think of when we are called to it’s shores. “Why doesn’t Devon carry anything, ever, are his wrists broken?” “Is Chris gonna be late again?” “Why does Bankston have glitter on?” “Why, does Buster?” Then the ladies. Oh you glorious river flowers, how I will miss you. Bumming cigs for a jello shot, a quick flash for the Rednecks on the banks, just to keep yourself “grounded”, nice touch. “Whoops, did I forget I was married”, I love you!. I wont’ place blame with anyone but myself for allowing this diversion to keep Le and I from our most hollowed annual event. Was it me that, got sick…wait…that was Grayton 2 years ago!!! Then my fatherly enstinct took over this winter… wait a sec….William’s a boy, slap a boob in his mouth (any boob) wipe his ass and he’s fine. “What’s my problem!!! This is ridicuolous!!! Why am I getting mail from Design Star? Shit there’s one from Tyra! Have I lost all my manhood?” The answer my fellow floaters is…no, just half of it. The half that I hope you will think of as you try to polish off a 6’er before the train bridge this weekend. The half that will think of back flips off the GSB. The half that will NOT carry that bitches cooler up the LPE unless you see boobies. I will be there in, spirit, pulling that drunken chics bikini straps, so you CAN see them without touching her cooler (filled with her friends clothes no doubt… stupid bitch). I love you all. You too Barron.
Richie Hale
VFM Ret. 2008