Starting date: Monday, June 22nd

Greetings, Gentle Reader, 5/3/09

A rainy Sunday evening presents more than a few options for an 8th grade English teacher. The ever-present stack of prose rendered by my students is, of course, one option…an option I deferred yesterday, and this morning, and again this afternoon. Sir Frances Chinchester’s Gypsy Moth Circles the World beckons, half-finished, from the bedside table, but I’m a realist: a nap would quickly ensue, and the day would be done. Peg has been sanding and preparing the downstairs bathroom for a fresh coat of paint, a project I’ve been conspicuously absent from and which builds guilt with each passing minute. “Gotta do a blog entry,” I called from the top of the stairs a few minutes ago. “Sure, go ahead,” she responded happily, as if believing that what I now do constitutes work. She knows better…exhibiting yet another reason why I love her dearly.

Yet, Gentle Reader, while it may appear that I am a paragon of procrastination and indecision, I have indeed made some weighty row-related decisions since my last blog entry.

First, I’ve declared a starting date: Monday, June 22nd (FYI, kids, the day after Father’s Day). At 20-25 miles each day, this date enables me a reasonable chance to arrive in DC on or by the 4th of July. Patriotic, yes? Should I be early, don’t expect me to row donuts out on the Potomac waiting for Michelle and Barack to light the fireworks; when I get to DC, I’ll be done. Medium well, probably.

Second, I’ve decided to make this, at best, a very low-intensity fundraiser. Many of you donated generously - beyond generously, actually - to previous journeys. You will recall that all proceeds go to financial aid in support of needy families at The Boys’ Latin School, where I teach. The Big Row in ’06 raised over $18,000, and last year’s quieter Erie Canal row pulled in an additional $8,000. Run the numbers and that totals $32.50 per mile over 800 miles…all because of you.

“Al,” you might be asking, “at $32.50 per (historical) mile, doesn’t that mean that you’re relinquishing $8,125 this year in your 250 mile voyage? Have you gone soft? Is there no longer any need?”

Hardly. In today’s economic climate, the need is starkly greater than ever! But I’ve been dipping into the same well, deeply, for two years. Wells need to replenish, and I am profoundly aware that the folks who, in better times, have supported my nautical hi-jinks are themselves not immune to the current economic travails.

In addition, the Boys’ Latin population has been enormously generous throughout the year. Even in the teeth of a declining economy, the school turns over every stone…and alums and parents respond with care and generosity. I feel that my row might be “a bridge too far” for some, and I am reluctant to pile yet another brick of obligation into some already well stressed wheelbarrows.

Finally, remember…I said “low intensity,” not “not a fundraiser.” Kathy will set up a pledge paddle, we’ll shoot for $8125, but I’ll not be hammering you during each and every blog. The need is still there, and I am mindful of it each day as I have the privilege to teach wonderful boys who would not be in my classroom were it not for the generosity of others. So…if you can, please DO pledge; we’ll make it easy!

Last weekend, Peg and I visited her parents who spend the winter In Montross, Virginia. Their home is on a small tributary on the Potomac, and I will certainly stop in to use their shower and avail myself of a soft bed during the row. Their place is exactly 130 miles away by car and, amazingly, 125 miles away by rowboat - more if I take a few side-trips along the way, which is likely. In crossing over the Potomac on the Nice bridge (it is a nice bridge, and a Nice bridge…the Harry W. Nice bridge) at Dahlgren, I was struck by the expanse of the river, its placidity…and its proximity to Dahlgren, the home of the navy’s Surface Warfare Center. They do a lot of R&D at Dahlgren and that R&D, as I’ve read, includes shooting a lot of sharp, pointy stuff out over the water. Over dinner, Mrs. McCarty noted that, “Oh, they don’t shoot the big stuff nearly as much as they used to; we used to hear the big booms a lot more often than we do now.” I’m hardly reassured; they live at least 30 miles away, and the “big booms” they no longer hear over that distance are likely supplanted by lots and lots of baby boomlets, any one of which likely propels something able to penetrate the 1/8 inch protective shell of my boat. Let’s face it…while Yamamoto might have had an interest in the difference between a 16” shell, a 5” shell, or a 20 mm gun, in an Adirondack Guideboat, they all spell trouble. I’d better do a bit more reading on how to avoid the flying metal - or whatever else they’re testing - next month. Unless they are working on a Twinkie Mortar or a Krispy Kreme Katapult, I’d like to row by on a quiet day. So, Gentle Reader, it’s “game on” on 6/22. We’ll erect the pledge paddle, and I know you will do what you can. But I’m going anyway.

Hugs,Mr. Frei