On vacation here in Marathon, in
the Florida Keys, sitting on the patio facing a canal, I feel like Jimmy
Stewart in Hitchcock's Rear Window as I watch the neighbors across the canal
hefting a cooler onto their boat, leaving, and returning with their catch. They
celebrate a big wahoo, clean it, grill it and eat it all the while in full
view. Of course, they also see my family
and I while we eat our meal on the patio.
In Marathon every house has a
boat. The car is parked in the driveway
in front and the boat is parked in the canal behind. The house faces neighbors across the street
and the back yard faces the neighbors across the canal. No one expects privacy in either
direction. Perhaps that is part of the
spirit of the salt life. A fantasy of
leisure, fishing, and socializing, without the hard edges of trying to make a
living. I imagine that salt life is
lived almost in quotes, as a demonstration of the good life, a spectator sport
that invites others to watch.
