Meet Todd Kipling, lead singer of Unspeakable Noise

Damn boat drinks like an alcoholic on shore leave. I watch the old-fashioned counter on the marina gas pump flip rapidly over and over, slowing ever so slightly after it crests $5,000. And that’s just a top-up. The gas gauge was sitting at about 3/4 when I decided it might be a good idea to fill the tank.

A few seagulls take to the air screaming in outrage. I’d like to think it’s over gas prices and inefficient fuel consumption but I think it has more to do with the salmon guts one of the line fishermen just tossed over the pier. A late-afternoon breeze blows in the salty tang of the water and creosote pilings mixing with the fuel fumes. It’s a smell that makes you feel alive even if it’s never going to be a billboard signature scent. I grin, thinking about the last image consultant that tried to talk me into being the face of some noxious chemical brew masquerading as cologne. That conversation lasted only as long as it took me to press the elevator button. I don’t miss that kind of shit, not even a little bit.