Gran Turismo sull'isola con Catball

The big guy and his cute wife woke up to "Rrr, rrr, rrr" sounds coming from the living room of their Vineyard Haven vacation headquarters, and guessed that Catball was already up and awake and letting his catball imagination roam free.

"Yep, Catball's playing 'Race Car Driver' again," the cute wife said.  "But he has given me a fantastic idea for what we should do with our day.  I saw a fun rental place while we were on our bikes which we should totally take advantage of."

Arrows F1--the catball brothers' favorite

"I know the one you're talking about," the big guy said while Catball took Eau Rouge flat-out in his mind, "and I totally agree.  It sounds like a lot of fun to me for sure."

Catball's eyes sparked up, and as his people tucked him away and walked into town, his anticipation grew and grew.

Catball was struck dumb with happiness once they arrived at their destination.  "It's like yesterday's noble steed," he said, "only red!  And motorized!  And we'll look ridiculous while riding it!  It's better than I could have imagined!"

The big guy and his cute wife donned helmets and tucked Catball away safely.  With a whirr and a putt-putt and a nnnnnnng, they motored off and away to new islandy sights.  They rode along a sunny coastline road, through a town, and finally arrived at their first destination.  "I wonder if I have a brother named Edgar?  If so, I bet I could find him here," thought Catball.

They stopped at a bridge along the coast where a bunch of beachy-looking anarchists had congregated to stick it to the man.

Young and old, tall and small, brave and scared lined up along the bridge to contemplate their fates. 

Each one that jumped looked a lot happier coming out of the water than they did going into it, that was for sure--cooler, refreshed, spiritually validated, it seemed.  Catball wanted in, especially on the spiritual validation part.  With the big guy's and the cute wife's nervous blessing, he bounced his way onto the top rail.  He breathed the salty air deeply and felt the wind whoosh on his forehead between his ears.  He gazed intently at the water, greenish blue, calm, inviting, beckoning even.  The periphery of his vision blurred and dimmed as he focused, his mind naturally computing the physics of his hop, his descent, his sploosh.  He quietly entered a zone of zen-like focus.

"GAH!" he exclaimed.  Catball bounced back into the cute wife's arms.  "I do not want to be a moist anarchist," he said, looking up to her for safety.  "If a bug is my karmic penance for such defiance, I choose to obey."  They stood and watched other young people hurtle themselves into the abyss, every time coming up laughing and relieved.  "This place should have a sign that says 'Beware of Karmic Messenger Insects,'" said Catball.  And with that, they hopped on their scooter and rode on.

The trio made their way into the center of Edgartown.  "The Edgars here must be wealthy," Catball thought out loud.  The houses were large and beautiful, white with charming landscapes and colorful window shutters often times.  The streets were narrow and it seemed like every one led to a coastline.  They found a spot where a small park offered a place to sit and take in the spectacularness.

As is his way, a shiny thing caught Catball's attention.  "That tower down there," he said as he gestured to the water's edge, "I think it has a treasure at the top of it!  A ROTATING treasure!"

"A secret path!  A path to treasure!  Let's go!"

"Nuts, it seems this tower is defended.  Let us let them keep their treasure in peace.  This time."