Who doesn't like going to a boat show, especially now that this almost extinct event is now making a big come back. I love the nostalgic odor of plastics and styrene out gassing in a large confined hall, the $12.00 boiled hot dog and beer, the hundreds of desperate salesmen clutching their binders searching for the elusive Mr. Big who may actually buy a boat, and the carnival feel. I always carry one of those small checkbooks sticking out of my shirt pocket to activate salesman's drool and sweat glands. But to be honest, I rarely look at the boats. I know that after a boat is delivered to it's owner, and actually dropped into the water, it will be just a matter of days before I'm called to fix it. I can then examine it up close and personally with lots of tools while muttering pejorative verbiage under my breath.
