Zen moments Queen and the Arkansas Rive r

 Outside of the small college town I went to ran the Arkansas River.  Being from Oklahoma, I always pronounced it "Ar-kan-saw." The Kansas people were quick to tell me it was pronounced "Ar'Kansas."  The river, regardless of what you call it, was a location for a lot of students on adventure time. 

Since the college was a religious school, the river was a good place for drinking and letting loose. 

In the spring, when the weather was warmer and most of us were free from our sport responsibilities, we would often go to the river.  We would buy some beer and head to the banks of the river.  I never drank any alcohol until I finished my last college game, but after that and then the following extra year I put in at Sterling, I found that liked wine, So I would also bring a bottle of wine.

We had a lot of fun doing stupid things, mostly harmless.  The river wasn't deep, but after spring rains, the current could get pretty stiff.

So, there we were, several guys out splashing in the river in our underwear. Yelling and laughing, splashing and sometimes sitting on the shore talking trash to each other. 

On this particular trip, Mo had been knocking back several cans of beer.  It seems like a lot of our stories always started with the words "Mo."

For some reason, he trad to walk across the river. The current was pretty swift, so he had to kind of walk upstream to avoid being pushed downstream. But, he was also drunk. 

Mo got to the middle of the river and was trying to trudge upstream. Bu for every step he took , he was pushed back two. . 

Mo kept yelling at us to rescue him and so of course, we sat on the shore and made fun of him. Much good natured swearing was exchanged along with laughs. Mack would yell, "What's wrong, Sheppie?  Are you stuck?"

Finally we helped Mo stagger   to shore. 

We brought our sleeping bags to sleep under the spring time stars on the banks of the river. We finally wore out the day and crawled in bags to sleep. Gossip and good natured ribbing died down and we fell asleep to the sound of the river passing by. 

Late that  night, even though the day had been clear and without clouds, there was thunder.  I was wakened by a few drops of water hitting my face as low thunder rumbled in the distance.  Laying in the bag next to me, Larry sang lowly, "Thunderbolts and lightning..."

I and  a few others joined in ."Very, very Frightening me... Galileo, Galileo, Figaro, magnifico!'

Finally, our singing died down and the last few drops of rain ceased. We went silent once more, rolled over and  fell back into sleep till the next morning. 

Here in Oklahoma, I still live a few miles from the Arkansas River, I'ev been to the river a few times, but those guys made the river trips. 

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