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RESERVED FOR KARMA BY DENISE “KARMA” CLIFFORD
“Reserved For Karma” is what the bold red letters say on the white sign at the dock. It’s where I dock my little 1973 vintage project boat, in between those times I get to take her out. This was the year I decided to give myself the pleasure of enjoying the lake where I grew up every chance I could. She sits among the other bigger, newer, better boats.right next to the diners at Abe’s Mai Tai Tiki Bar, who get a birds eye view of why I call her “lil Smokey”. When the engine decides to fire up, she announces it to all in view and I can troll out in a puff of smoke that smells of oil and gasoline. Although I always thought she was magnificent, with her olive green bow that screams 70’s all over again and rustic interior that I began replacing this year. She has character and charm beneath that beat up old shell and much like myself, she draws the attention of strangers right to her. Maybe she too is a gypsy and that’s her true name. I once showed up to work on her and to my surprise the little boy who was eating with his grandparents was so excited. As “that lady is here for the green boat!” I was told it was all he talked about during lunch and said he loved the green boat. I would have asked him to come in, and fire her up but didn’t want to be that creepy old lady who once had wide eyed little boys of her own.
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ROCHESTER WOMAN ONLINE : AUGUST EDITION 2021
Even though I know I’m not, they may have found it bizarre. So instead I stopped what I was doing and stood chatting with a little boy, and his grandparents about the project on the green boat. I ran into them the very next day, and of course the little boy knew exactly who I was,“there’s the green boat lady!” Was shouted out with his wide eyes
and pure joy. I stopped and chatted and let them know if they ever come back and I’m there, I’ll let him start it up. They didn’t find that creepy at all, in fact they were overly grateful that I even took the time to talk. On another occasion I was approached by a gentleman who was admiring my boat on his way out to his bigger newer boat with his young family. He told me about his similar project boat on the other side of the bay and gave me
tips on when I tear up the floor and lay a new one. He asked me about the engine, and was impressed it’s a 1975 Chrysler 75 horsepower. We chatted a bit and he told me he had breakfast at my food truck that day, he said “your Karma,right?” Yeah I told him with a half smirk. I’m Karma. It always surprises me when strangers know who I am, and humbles me. It reminds me that even when we aren’t aware, we are still being watched. It keeps me in check with the way I want to be portrayed, and to do things which keep my universe balanced. The spot is reserved for Karma, and I sometimes feel it’s more than just my boat. You see, when I went away for vacation I received word that my boat sank. I was in the middle of Pennsylvania, in a flash flood warning which seemed like a monsoon. That’s when I got word she came untied. “You better get down here with some ropes” was actually the message I received first. The stress of this seemed immeasurable but I was told that my friends at the dock got her tied back up but, I need new ropes. I was thankful and relieved. Until the next morning when my good friend Jamie called me. “Your boats at the bottom of the bay” he said. I was in Virginia, and my stomach dropped. What the hell do you do when your boat sinks? I hadn’t the first clue. I didn’t know who to call, what to say
