Melon of Destiny

One of the high points of the summer is the annual float down the Provo River. It's two and a half hours of beer drinking, trash talking relaxation that gives Ryan, me, and all of our friends a chance to forget the fact that the rest of the time we are parents, teachers, professionals, and all around adults. Every year it takes weeks to plan, negotiating everyone's schedules, and babysitters and such. Every year the entire time we are on the river we talk about how we should do it more than once a summer. And every year, it never does.

It used to be that after the float we would head to a dive bar in Heber for burgers and beers. However, as the crowd has grown that has gotten harder, so now we contain the mayhem to a park at the base of the canyon. Everyone brings something to share. This year, Ryan and I decided to bring watermelon. But this was no ordinary watermelon. This watermelon had a special purpose.

The night before the float Ryan decided that the melon needed to be more than just a cold tasty treat at the end of a cold float. It needed to be a symbol. To that end he pulled out a Sharpie and wrote in large block letters "Provo '09." Then he boldly signed it. His plan was this: he would have everyone on the trip sign it, and then it would float down the river with us. By the time it got to the bottom it would be ice cold and taste of victory. I was skeptical, and so decided to make things more interesting: I promised that if he got the watermelon all the way down the river in one piece I would give him 20 dollars, and perform a certain "adult act" on the bank of the river. I would say more, but I have a daughter now, so you can use your imagination.

Things didn't start off well for Ryan. The melon went into the water, and he was shepherding it along, when I decided it might be a good idea to try and drown. I fell off my inner tube and into the water, smashing my body into a bridge pylon. Then I decided that it wouldn't be a good idea for Meg's Mom to be the first story on the 10pm news, remembered I am a pretty strong swimmer, and pulled myself up. By that time though, Ryan had already dropped the melon, and it was floating off down stream.

For the next seven miles every time we passed a fisherman we would asked if they had seen the watermelon. They all had, and a few even tried to stop it, but it had gotten away. I was disappointed, because I like watermelon, and I was embarrassed that my stupidity had caused it to get away, but I was glad I was going to be able to maintain my dignity and avoid being arrested for public indecency.

And then, I saw it.

I was floating by myself, down river from the group, when I spotted it about 50 yards ahead, stuck in an eddy. I didn't know what to do. Should I grab it? Smash it? Try to get it into my tube? Then I noticed Ryan right behind of me, and knew what I needed to do.

I swam towards it, easily reaching it because of the section of calm water, and put it into the center of my tube. Ryan floated up beside me and stood up, coming to a stop. "Oh, good, you found it," he said. I nodded. And then I picked it up, held it over my head, and launched it downstream. "I could go after it," he said, "but I bet it just gets stuck again. I'll find it."

He didn't.

When we go to the bottom and realized the watermelon was nowhere to be found I was actually kind of sad. I mean, I knew I had to protect my interests, but I still thought it would have been fabulous if the melon had managed to make it, if only for the stories we would tell later. And I was pretty sure Ryan would take his prize privately at home, since he likes his stature as a respected educator.

Well, there's always next year.