Who better to gloat than a goat?

I'm here and you're not. As such, it's my duty to tell you how good it is and to re-enforce those feelings of inadequacy and helplessness you feel living in the craphole of wind that is Atlanta: Where Wind Goes to Die™. I've been in your shoes. I've felt that envy as others tell me how great it is. I've read the reports from foreign lands where the breezes blow steady; and the water and wind is warm.

But, not today. Today, I get to be an a-wipe. I get to tell you how even my callouses have blisters because it's been blowing so hard everyday from breakfast until dinner. I get to tell you how the water is so flat and wind so steady that I'm making jibes that I have no business making. I'm not bending my knees, I'm not over-sheeting. Heck, I'm not even sure I'm unhooking and pressing on the leeward rail but somehow I'm still planing on the other side. Yeah, it's that good. I'm a pretty crappy windsurfer but for a week, I'm frigging awesome.

When you are in Shangri-La, the aura affects not only you but others around you. Webguy Jr. is working on his planing jibe. The Missus (aka, the beautiful bride that allows us our windsurfing shenanigans) has even gone for a sail, something that happens with the frequency of a credible Yeti sighting. Princess, my teenage daughter, has even gone out joined by her friend, who windsurfed for the first time. Princess windsurfs so rarely that even the Yeti were surprised. In short, the whole family has windsurfed this week. As an aside, my investment in my Starboard Start is still paying off as everyone has windsurfed with none of that uphauling and falling off nonsense that afflicts those with less beginner friendly boards.

Rachel's first hour windsurfing. Thanks to my daughter, Princess, Rachel thinks the uphaul is called "the stringy". It doesn't matter. Rachel can windsurf now.

We aren't the only family here. There are teenaged windsurfers (both guy and gal) on either side of us and, when the wind was light, a bunch of younger ones, too. This morning, we saw a little grom holding on to a 1.0.

The kite weasels around us are having a good time. A couple of learners, a lot of intermediates and a few who can really throw some air. A lot of the kite weasels also windsurf - some when the wind is light, some when it gets heavy. The kite weasels know which house we're in and congregate their kites at our door like some sort of homage. We find it touching.

Look at all the cute kites outside our door. Maybe we shouldn't leave bowls of milk out for them.

Allow us our moment in the sun. Too soon, we'll be back in Atlanta, stepping through goose poo at the park, dragging our 9.5 down to the water and hoping/praying that we get enough wind to get off the beach. Until then, we'll gloat.

Popular, maybe overplayed, but still appropriate.