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</o:shapelayout></xml><![endif]--></head><body lang=EN-US link="#0563C1" vlink="#954F72"><div class=WordSection1><p class=MsoNormal>Cue the Da-Dum, Da-Dum …<o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal><o:p> </o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal>By Ann Chiappetta<o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal><o:p> </o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal><o:p> </o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal>Spending the summer on Long Island sound is one of my favorite childhood memories. My Dad bought a boat after the divorce and I spent the first year learning how not to be motion sick. I was eleven and spent each weekend with Dad trolling for bluefish, bottom fishing for flounder, or diving into the cool Atlantic water when it got hot. <o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal><o:p> </o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal>One weekend afternoon my cousins were with us to go water skiing. Dad had to be convinced because he didn’t want to use all his gas for something so frivolous. My cousins actually coughed up the gas money and after filling up at the fuel dock, we rode out of the harbor proper finding open water. It was the summer that the movie Jaws had been released and terrified generations of movie-goers, including me. <o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal><o:p> </o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal>When it was my turn to dive in and get help from my cousin to help buckle on the skis, and grab the tow handle, I didn’t have time to feel afraid. My adrenaline was making my hands shake and I was grinning like a fool. <o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal>The boat drifted off, my Dad straightening the tow line, then he gave me the thumbs up, and I heard the throttle rise and the boat roared into life, I felt the powerful jerk on my hands and arms but I did what Dad instructed, kept my arms bent, my toes pointed up knees bent, leaning away from the pull. I was up and skimming the water, then I hit a dip in the water and my skis flew into the air and when I landed back in the water, they both flew off my feet. I’d let go of the handle as soon as I felt the fall coming and floated in the water thanks to the safety flotation belt. The boat wasn’t far off, already circling around to get me. In that moment of floating I thought of the movie and I began to scan the surface of the water, trying to look down past my feet but the water was a murky green. I began to panic, closing my eyes and trying not to cry. I watched the boat come closer, then gratefully swam to the ladder when Dad put it into neutral. <o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal><o:p> </o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal>“Want to try again?” asked my cousin. <o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal>I shook my head and unbuckled the flotation belt. After bobbing in the water, helpless and possibly being mistaken for a meal, I was happy to only try water skiing again in a freshwater lake.<o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal><o:p> </o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal><o:p> </o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal><o:p> </o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal>Author<o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal>` Making meaningful connections with others through writing `<o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal><a href="http://www.annchiappetta.com/">www.annchiappetta.com</a> or <a href="http://www.dldbooks.com/annchiappetta/">www.dldbooks.com/annchiappetta/</a> <o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal>Blog: <a href="http://www.thought-wheel.com/">www.thought-wheel.com</a><o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal>Facebook Annie Chiappetta<o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal> <o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal><o:p> </o:p></p></div></body></html>