How long had I been staggering along? I was wet, cold and my head felt like the inside of a drum after a
very long concert. Only the drummer was still playing. What was I looking for? My vision was blurry.
There were blinking lights all over the place. The sight or cars moving along with no road noise was very
strange. It was as if they were floating on air. I was walking past many cars with their lights flashing. That
was it!
I was looking for my truck. Now it was coming back to me. I was on the beach. The longest beach in
America. Long Beach, Washington. I think it was a convention for the feeble-minded? There were
thousands of people out there pounding on the ground with sticks. Occasionally they would fall to the
ground and start digging in the sand. They were using many different types of tools. What could have
caused all these people to have lost their minds at the same time? Maybe the bag I was carrying would
give me some clues?
It was tied to my side with a piece of rope. My hands though, were just too cold to untie the thing. I would
need some help if I were to peer at the contents of the bag. I think there were many people out there who
were in need of some help. Was there anybody that was not affected by this madness? All I could do was
to stagger on.
Then there was a tug at my sleeve and another tug at my memory. "Dad, I think that is our truck over
there?" Where had that sound come from? A voice as if from nowhere. Perhaps I truly had gone mad?
Oh yes! My son was there staggering along with me. Was that really our truck or just a mirage? No it
could not be a mirage because it was dark. The sun had long disappeared. The wavy look of the truck
was cause by the sheets of rain falling before my eyes. Yes, that was our truck. Possibly some answers
would await us, at the truck, as to the cause of all this madness.
As we approached, an angel appeared in the middle of a bright light. I thought that perhaps I had actually
died. This angel helped me off with my wet clothes. I was thinking that it was quite unusual to have an
angel do this when the smallest shreds of recognition passed briefly through my head. Neither the angel
nor the light was from heaven. The light was coming from the inside of the truck. The angel being my wife.
My wife being possibly the only sane person left around. She said something but I could not understand
what it was. I chipped away at the ice around my ears and thawed my eardrums so that they would vibrate
to sound again. I was at last able to make out what she was saying. DID YOU GET ANY CLAMS?
Now for me being as near to death as I was, how many clams I may have gotten or not gotten was not high
on my list of priorities. She rubbed my hands and face until I was able to mumble a response. It was not
received very well. She later claimed that I said something inelegant in Russian. Russian not being one of
my strong points, I decided this theory must be incorrect. Most likely it was my inability to move my lips
properly that caused the misunderstanding. We were able to finally pry my fingers from around the bag
and look inside. Two clams graced the bottom of the bag.
As the heater of the truck warmed me there could be heard this strange ticking sound. Not unlike the
sound made by many clocks in a clock shop. This sound was later determined to be my teeth chattering.
Why was I out here? Could it be the fact that The High Commander likes seafood, or had I just gone mad?
Most likely I was mad to begin with and did not need much pushing to get me out here. In any case I sat in
the warmth of the truck remembering the ordeal we had been through that day.
We had arrived in the early afternoon and did a little shopping at the tourist-trap store. This place was very
unusual. There were all kinds of weird things there. Two headed calfs. An Alligator Man (half man half
alligator) and many things like this that you would expect to see in a 1930's side show. In fact I felt a little
funny walking around in there.
Knowing that The High Commander would like to look around longer than my son and I, and the fact that
we had gone around the store twice already, we (son & I) took a walk around town. This way we would not
be the High Commanders "little tails." This is what she call's us as we follow her through a store without
much enthusiasm. I am not sure how long we were gone but there seemed to be something wrong with
The High Commander when we returned to the store. She had not moved from the spot we had left her in.
Had some of the strange articles in the store enslaved her or could she have just stepped in some glue
and was unable to move. Whatever it was, just my pleasant presence was able to get her out the door.
She later claimed that it was unnecessary to carry her out like that. She seemed to think that was a bit
embarrassing. I on the other hand, not knowing what-evil force had possessed her, had acted in her best
interest. The strange and severe words she had been saying finally subsided. It was a relief. I concluded
that the evil presence had left. (Later I realized that this force had found out where we were headed and
left in his or her own best interest.)
We headed for the beach. It did not take very long. The store was mere feet from the beach. Soon we were
cruising down the beach at a pleasant speed. There were not many people there at this time, so I
increased my speed. That's when the evil presence made a quick reappearance. The High Commander
said later that the bump on her head did not hurt so bad. If only I had missed that hole the kids had been
playing in and had not tried to jump the creek washing across the beach (with the truck) the bump would
not have been so big. I said that I thought that all that hair on her head would have protected her from
bouncing off the ceiling of the truck. She said it did not in so many words.
We finally arrived at a spot I determined would have some clams. Not knowing what that spot should look
like I just faked it. We all donned our rain gear and gathered our various tools for the digging of the clams.
We bravely headed for the water. I watched the few people out there and started to mimic them. I was
conscious of the fact that there were other people watching me and mimicking me. Maybe this was just
some type of an experiment. I was not yet confident of getting anything. Was it possible this was just
another form of Snipe hunting? Were there really any clams here?
Soon more cars were stopping and the people were coming over near us. I thought that if all these people
had known that none of us on the beach knew what we were doing they would move on. But soon there
was quite a crowd. As it started to get dark, The High Commander went back to the truck. Bashoy Raub
and I soon lit our lantern. As the tide went out a few people would actually dig up a clam now and then. I
and a lot of other people were standing there in the dark of night, in the pouring rain, wading in the
freezing surf, pounding on the sand with sticks, and hoping beyond hope to see the tiniest indication of a
slimly shell clad creature that lived in the sand. The indication we were looking for looked exactly like a
rain drop hitting the sand. It seemed nearly impossible in this rainstorm. By some miracle and by sticking
like glue to this older couple and their father, and asking more questions than anyone should have to bare,
we came up with two clams. By this time I was cold and wet and tired of watching this couple dig up clam
after clam where I did not see any difference in the sand from what we had just passed. I decided to head
for the truck.
As I turned and looked up the beach to where the truck should be, all I could see was flashing lights.
Blurry lights at that. Not having windshield wipers on this set of glasses, 1 had taken them off earlier
because it was raining so hard. It was very dark and many people had left their lights on flasher so it would
be easier to find. The problem was that so many people had done this that it was useless. Luckily I did not
have this problem. I had not thought that far ahead. I had done nothing to help myself find the truck. Just
try wondering around on the beach a few hours in the dark. Walking back and forth. Looking only at the
sand near to your feet. You have no idea where you are. We had to walk very far down the beach and back
to finally put myself in the position I was at, at the beginning of this story.
There was a solid line of cars driving both ways up and down the beach. As far as you could see there
were cars. I imagine we could see ten or more miles of beach. We needed a traffic light to stop the cars
just so we could get in line. We waited for a while for a spot to open up. We had about 3.5 hours to drive
to get home and so wanted to get going. At last we inserted ourselves in this line and started on our drive
home.
After a while I was getting pretty sleepy. The High Commander said she would drive but I was worried
because it was raining so hard which made it very difficult to see the road. We were on just a two-lane
country road, and there were logging trucks coming the other way. They would blind you with their lights
making it nearly impossible to see the road. Well she started driving and I fell asleep. She was new to
driving and I guess I fell asleep with this nagging doubt as to her ability to navigate such treacherous
roads, and with this fear that she would crash us. When I woke up a few minutes later I did not know
where we were at. The High Commander was turning off the road we were on so I grabbed the steering
wheel and forced her to the side of the road. I really was still asleep though, and the side of the road turned
out to be the middle of a freeway off ramp. It was also an hour later than I thought. That was the last
appearance of the evil presence that night.
very long concert. Only the drummer was still playing. What was I looking for? My vision was blurry.
There were blinking lights all over the place. The sight or cars moving along with no road noise was very
strange. It was as if they were floating on air. I was walking past many cars with their lights flashing. That
was it!
I was looking for my truck. Now it was coming back to me. I was on the beach. The longest beach in
America. Long Beach, Washington. I think it was a convention for the feeble-minded? There were
thousands of people out there pounding on the ground with sticks. Occasionally they would fall to the
ground and start digging in the sand. They were using many different types of tools. What could have
caused all these people to have lost their minds at the same time? Maybe the bag I was carrying would
give me some clues?
It was tied to my side with a piece of rope. My hands though, were just too cold to untie the thing. I would
need some help if I were to peer at the contents of the bag. I think there were many people out there who
were in need of some help. Was there anybody that was not affected by this madness? All I could do was
to stagger on.
Then there was a tug at my sleeve and another tug at my memory. "Dad, I think that is our truck over
there?" Where had that sound come from? A voice as if from nowhere. Perhaps I truly had gone mad?
Oh yes! My son was there staggering along with me. Was that really our truck or just a mirage? No it
could not be a mirage because it was dark. The sun had long disappeared. The wavy look of the truck
was cause by the sheets of rain falling before my eyes. Yes, that was our truck. Possibly some answers
would await us, at the truck, as to the cause of all this madness.
As we approached, an angel appeared in the middle of a bright light. I thought that perhaps I had actually
died. This angel helped me off with my wet clothes. I was thinking that it was quite unusual to have an
angel do this when the smallest shreds of recognition passed briefly through my head. Neither the angel
nor the light was from heaven. The light was coming from the inside of the truck. The angel being my wife.
My wife being possibly the only sane person left around. She said something but I could not understand
what it was. I chipped away at the ice around my ears and thawed my eardrums so that they would vibrate
to sound again. I was at last able to make out what she was saying. DID YOU GET ANY CLAMS?
Now for me being as near to death as I was, how many clams I may have gotten or not gotten was not high
on my list of priorities. She rubbed my hands and face until I was able to mumble a response. It was not
received very well. She later claimed that I said something inelegant in Russian. Russian not being one of
my strong points, I decided this theory must be incorrect. Most likely it was my inability to move my lips
properly that caused the misunderstanding. We were able to finally pry my fingers from around the bag
and look inside. Two clams graced the bottom of the bag.
As the heater of the truck warmed me there could be heard this strange ticking sound. Not unlike the
sound made by many clocks in a clock shop. This sound was later determined to be my teeth chattering.
Why was I out here? Could it be the fact that The High Commander likes seafood, or had I just gone mad?
Most likely I was mad to begin with and did not need much pushing to get me out here. In any case I sat in
the warmth of the truck remembering the ordeal we had been through that day.
We had arrived in the early afternoon and did a little shopping at the tourist-trap store. This place was very
unusual. There were all kinds of weird things there. Two headed calfs. An Alligator Man (half man half
alligator) and many things like this that you would expect to see in a 1930's side show. In fact I felt a little
funny walking around in there.
Knowing that The High Commander would like to look around longer than my son and I, and the fact that
we had gone around the store twice already, we (son & I) took a walk around town. This way we would not
be the High Commanders "little tails." This is what she call's us as we follow her through a store without
much enthusiasm. I am not sure how long we were gone but there seemed to be something wrong with
The High Commander when we returned to the store. She had not moved from the spot we had left her in.
Had some of the strange articles in the store enslaved her or could she have just stepped in some glue
and was unable to move. Whatever it was, just my pleasant presence was able to get her out the door.
She later claimed that it was unnecessary to carry her out like that. She seemed to think that was a bit
embarrassing. I on the other hand, not knowing what-evil force had possessed her, had acted in her best
interest. The strange and severe words she had been saying finally subsided. It was a relief. I concluded
that the evil presence had left. (Later I realized that this force had found out where we were headed and
left in his or her own best interest.)
We headed for the beach. It did not take very long. The store was mere feet from the beach. Soon we were
cruising down the beach at a pleasant speed. There were not many people there at this time, so I
increased my speed. That's when the evil presence made a quick reappearance. The High Commander
said later that the bump on her head did not hurt so bad. If only I had missed that hole the kids had been
playing in and had not tried to jump the creek washing across the beach (with the truck) the bump would
not have been so big. I said that I thought that all that hair on her head would have protected her from
bouncing off the ceiling of the truck. She said it did not in so many words.
We finally arrived at a spot I determined would have some clams. Not knowing what that spot should look
like I just faked it. We all donned our rain gear and gathered our various tools for the digging of the clams.
We bravely headed for the water. I watched the few people out there and started to mimic them. I was
conscious of the fact that there were other people watching me and mimicking me. Maybe this was just
some type of an experiment. I was not yet confident of getting anything. Was it possible this was just
another form of Snipe hunting? Were there really any clams here?
Soon more cars were stopping and the people were coming over near us. I thought that if all these people
had known that none of us on the beach knew what we were doing they would move on. But soon there
was quite a crowd. As it started to get dark, The High Commander went back to the truck. Bashoy Raub
and I soon lit our lantern. As the tide went out a few people would actually dig up a clam now and then. I
and a lot of other people were standing there in the dark of night, in the pouring rain, wading in the
freezing surf, pounding on the sand with sticks, and hoping beyond hope to see the tiniest indication of a
slimly shell clad creature that lived in the sand. The indication we were looking for looked exactly like a
rain drop hitting the sand. It seemed nearly impossible in this rainstorm. By some miracle and by sticking
like glue to this older couple and their father, and asking more questions than anyone should have to bare,
we came up with two clams. By this time I was cold and wet and tired of watching this couple dig up clam
after clam where I did not see any difference in the sand from what we had just passed. I decided to head
for the truck.
As I turned and looked up the beach to where the truck should be, all I could see was flashing lights.
Blurry lights at that. Not having windshield wipers on this set of glasses, 1 had taken them off earlier
because it was raining so hard. It was very dark and many people had left their lights on flasher so it would
be easier to find. The problem was that so many people had done this that it was useless. Luckily I did not
have this problem. I had not thought that far ahead. I had done nothing to help myself find the truck. Just
try wondering around on the beach a few hours in the dark. Walking back and forth. Looking only at the
sand near to your feet. You have no idea where you are. We had to walk very far down the beach and back
to finally put myself in the position I was at, at the beginning of this story.
There was a solid line of cars driving both ways up and down the beach. As far as you could see there
were cars. I imagine we could see ten or more miles of beach. We needed a traffic light to stop the cars
just so we could get in line. We waited for a while for a spot to open up. We had about 3.5 hours to drive
to get home and so wanted to get going. At last we inserted ourselves in this line and started on our drive
home.
After a while I was getting pretty sleepy. The High Commander said she would drive but I was worried
because it was raining so hard which made it very difficult to see the road. We were on just a two-lane
country road, and there were logging trucks coming the other way. They would blind you with their lights
making it nearly impossible to see the road. Well she started driving and I fell asleep. She was new to
driving and I guess I fell asleep with this nagging doubt as to her ability to navigate such treacherous
roads, and with this fear that she would crash us. When I woke up a few minutes later I did not know
where we were at. The High Commander was turning off the road we were on so I grabbed the steering
wheel and forced her to the side of the road. I really was still asleep though, and the side of the road turned
out to be the middle of a freeway off ramp. It was also an hour later than I thought. That was the last
appearance of the evil presence that night.
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Clam
Chowder
Chowder