I was cajoled by my internet humor-writer friend otherwise known as the award-winning author and humorist to attend National Society of Newspaper Columnist Conference. I acquiesced and immediately regretted my impulsive behavior—this of course after I had purchased the tickets to Ventura, California. I mean really, I write the humor column for the b-town blog and I don’t recall winning any awards recently or for that matter have any other credentials that would allow me entrance to such an esteemed society. But times are hard and Karen said, “It doesn’t matter, they need people to fill the conference room, all the newspapers are shutting down or going Chapter 11, they need bodies man.” So I went.

The title says it all—if we had to live off the sea here in Cortez Bay—we would starve. Fortunately there are mussels on the beach and of course oysters—too numerous to count. Speaking of oysters . . .funny story that.

Cab driver drops me off at wrong marina—looks rather like a fisherman marina, which I point out. “Oh no, you got the right place here, yeh, this is it.” He says in a very assured tone. I climb out of cab and huff my bags out of the back before he even steps foot out the door. “Here, let me help you” he says salaciously. “Gosh, your strong for such a little thing.” Eye rolls on my part. This after I told him, I was a writer. “Oh, write them there romantic novels do ya?” “Ah, no, just this and that.” Could be dangerous territory, I’m not talking romance novels with this guy.

Echoes ring down the halls of the Serena Hotel, the three girls high-pitched voices on a ninety-degree decibel. The following morning we boarded a Cessna Caravan (the suburban of the skies) and arrived none the worse for the wear at a remote airstrip. At one point, a giraffe gracefully out-skirted us on the dirt runway making for an interesting and amusing landing. Bill Winters says that, landing on the dirt strip is one of the difficulties of running a safari operation because of the plethora of seemingly unaware four-legged creatures. Two Toyota Land-cruisers (custom modified chasse’s) await our landing, not only to make sure the runway is clear, but also to ferry us to our tented campsite.

Last Thursday I was perusing the Burien Farmers Market (open from 11:00 to 6:00) when I ran into my favorite flower vendor. They happily met me with kind smiles and inquired, “What you like today?”