Look closely, or click to enlarge; there is something there (there ^^).
Mr. Betty and I snuck (or is it sneaked??) down to the Yachting Center last night under a full moon — despite assorted stern warnings and dangers such as drag-racing pedicabs — to check out a really interesting boat. I'm not sure if it's called Stealth, or if that was just Mr. Betty's name for it. If it's not called Stealth, it should be called Stealth. Okay, I just looked it up: It (she, that barely-discernible boat in the dark) is called Stiletto. She's certainly stealthy-looking with her so-called M-shaped hull and Darth Vaderish appearance; and she certainly gets around with a reputed speed of 50 knots. The security guard at the dock let us creep up close. (We didn't creep; I'm being silly.) He told us that Stealth is designed to drop off an aircraft carrier. That Navy Seals drop out of some hatch in the back. Then he told us that Stealth (a.k.a. Stiletto, but that creates a very different image, i.e. a boat in high heels, doesn't it??) was leaving first thing in the morning. She'd be at the Goat Island gas dock at 7am. So, I resolved to get up and see her under brighter circumstances — but I overslept, instead heading out more toward 8 to that vast sloping lawn at Eisenhower House to watch Stiletto pass by on her way out-of-town, hoping to see her step on the gas, as she'd just filled up with gas. No such luck. All I saw on this beautiful beautiful morning at Fort Adams were a few late-in-life dandelions, lots of what looked to be poison ivy, a couple of fishing boats and a muddy puddle. Oh, and that big blue puddle spreading out every which way: Narragansett Bay. I visited (and sympathized a bit) with John Adams, who enjoys a lovely perch and clearly is a perch on occasion. But no Stealth. Or Stiletto. I assume she'd already sneaked or snuck by ...
I know, I know: What does that last image (not the puddle, not John Adams' ponytail, but the image below, on the wall) have to do with anything?? Just that sometimes this whole empty-nester-in-Newport business feels rather, um, cracked.
