Last week we went to Lake Powell. I love lake Powell. I learned how to wakeboard and filet fish. We slept on the roof of our house boat every night and pondered the heavens-I miss that. We also read, watched movies and ate ourselves fat on homemade ice cream. As we were watching "The Ring," a real bat flew into our room and freaked the crap out of us for several minutes. When does that happen? Exactly. Later that night my Dad tried to wake me up to help him with our drifting houseboat. I don't really remember much but as I awoke I realized I was chambering an upkick targeted at my dad's head. He said I had been yelling, punching and kicking the air for about 20 seconds previously. I can't prove it but I'm sure the bat had something to do with my violent sleepwalk.
