An "enlightening" tour

 I glanced around with trepidation as we stood in line for the Lighthouse Harbor Cruise. I spotted a woman holding a flimsy book bag sporting the silhouette of a lighthouse surrounded by a heart. Hmmm. The man ahead of me was weighted down with more amateur camera equipment than that carried by Kardashian paparazzi. One lady had a bedazzled image of a lighthouse on her shirt. The polo shirt headed towards me offered some hope but instead of an alligator or a little polo-playing dude, the logo was...you guessed it...a lighthouse. "Are we old," I whispered to Brad whose lips were pressed tightly together as though he were concentrating on walking a tight-wire over the Falls."I'm not old," I insisted, fighting my way through an AARP singles group to the second deck, "I attended an X Ambassadors concert just last week." Squeezed between two retired Navy veterans, Savannah called out, "You only knew their song from the car commercial."

"How did you hear about this tour," Brad asked as we fought senior citizens for seat space. I grimaced, remembering. "The docent of the Nathan Hale Schoolhouse said it was wonderful," I explained carefully. "Wasn't she a retired schoolteacher," Savannah asked helpfully before the captain made an announcement offering headphones for the hearing impaired. We were almost crushed in the consequenting stampede.

Things began looking up when a woman walked by carrying a cloudy drink with a ka-bob of green olives erupting out of it. It turned out that, if you didn't count the unsupervised toddler terrorizing the air-conditioned salon, Savannah was the second youngest person on the boat. "Good news," Brad said, encouragingly, "We might be the fifth or sixth youngest people here (If you don't count the crew)."

It WAS a lovely ride. Over two hours of skirting the shore (which minimized my risk of motion sickness to a manageable degree), enjoying the weather, marveling over the engineering genius of constructing lighthouse foundations in water, appreciating the architectural uniqueness of each structure, empathizing about the loneliness of lighthouse-keeping as a career, and hoping-beyond-hope to catch a glimpse of a rumored harbor seal. "Where are your expectations," Savannah asked, moving her flat palm from above her head to down below her knees. "They're right here, Mom."

The picture-taking sessions were a nightmare. My rule is that if I wanted a picture of a landscape, I'd commission an artist or buy a postcard. BUT...all bets are off if someone you know is pictured IN FRONT OF the landscape. In this case, the nutty lighthouse people with their fifty cameras strapped around their necks with additional equipment holstered around their waists might actually have the right idea as I scrolled through Brad's phone pictures and immediately apologized that he had to be married to someone with such a giant @$$. "What are you talking about?" he said kindly, "That's not your @$$. The wind was blowing your shirt out." I hugged my husband in gratitude before he said, "That's also why your hair looks so kooky."

Thoroughly enjoyed my afternoon. It was relaxing and fun. And fun, as you all know, encompasses ALL ages. Did the tour. DIDN'T buy the t-shirt.