I haven’t been to the Dip for about a month and the story of why is pretty interesting. I’m not going to tell it… at least not right now. I’m still processing it and frankly, your impatience is a little off-putting. Sheez.
Anyway, I was down in Florida for a month (that’s the interesting story you have to wait for, Mr. and Mrs. Impatienstein) and upon my return, I started playing in a new softball league. This is after fifteen years of inactivity, living mostly on kit kats and… other packaged, chocolatey deliciousness.
You see, when I was a kid, I was pretty accomplished at baseball and after having played it for most of my childhood and into my teen years, I assumed my “muscle memory” would kick-in pretty quickly. I figured I’d be back up to speed in no time and dazzling my new friends with my truly awesome skills.
This is when I learned that muscles don’t have brains, but instead nerves that send electronic impulses to the brain. These impulses carry messages, and throughout my body you could hear a chorus of angry nerves singing, “OW! What the hell are you doing?! Stop! Stop it! Are you kidding? Twenty years of nothing and now this? That’s it, A-Rod. You’re going down.”
We practiced on Thursday and Friday hurt pretty bad. On Saturday, we played a couple of games and though I did get some of my form back and make some good plays, I fell three times, sprained my wrist and by the end of the second game, every rebellious, lazy nerve in my body was hurling horrendous insults at my brain. (It’s still not talking to many of them, which is fine with me.)
Later that afternoon, I hobbled up to my little cabin at Serendipity Park nudist resort.
For those of you who don’t know, Saturday night is when it’s all happening around here and if you’re looking for a good time, this is where it can be had. And I understand this past Saturday night was a real whiz-banger. I would have checked it out for myself, but I felt like I had just received botox injections in every major muscle group, then was hit by a train.
I heard Sunday at the pool was even better, but for me, much of Sunday was spent popping Advil like candy and hating my friend for asking me to play softball. I still have some of the text messages.
Friend: How are you feeling?
Me: I hate you.
Friend: Seriously. How are you?
Me: I hate you.
Friend: Ok… let me know if you can play Tuesday.
Me: K. I hate you.
So here’s my elusive point: I desperately needed a quiet place to recover, and that’s exactly what I got. It’s beautiful. It’s quiet. When I’m here, I sleep like a dead man and I feel more relaxed than I’ve ever been.
The website says that two days here is like two weeks elsewhere, and I’ve found that to be the absolute truth. I’m not the only one who feels that way, as many I’ve spoken to feel the exact same way. This place is healing.
If you want to meet new friends in a relaxed and free setting, come here. If you want to party into the night, come here. If you want a peaceful place to relax, come here. There really is something for everyone here at the Dip, and frankly, there’s no place I’d rather be.
If you’ve never been, you have to try it at least once. You just don’t know what you’re missing.
What’s Happening this weekend:
Through a brief conversation with the Activities Director, I understand that International Beer Day is this Friday and we are celebrating by drinking lots of beer. I’m a little fuzzy on the details, but not nearly as fuzzy as I will be Saturday. By then, I will surely have forgotten any details about Friday.
I believe the way it works is that everyone brings some of their favorite micro-brew beers and offers them to the beer gods. With each beer you give, you receive a ticket redeemable for one beer. The more tickets you have, the more beer you get to drink. It sounds awesome.
I think he also said something about bringing an extra beer for the naked blogger, but I could have imagined that part. You probably should, just to be safe. I wouldn’t want you to get kicked out for forgetting to bring me a beer. (Just kidding. I absolutely would want you to get kicked out if you did not bring me one.)
If you’re on the e-mail subscription, check your inbox for details and do not count on mine (except for the bringing me a beer part). If you’re not, you can get on that list here.