It's Shark Week Again...

I realize that I'm not cut out to enjoy watching people have hunks of themselves bitten off by ocean dwelling nightmares. I have a hard time even watchnig the commercials. I see an underwater shot of the legs of the innocent swimmer/wader/person and the "Jaws" theme springs, unbidden, to mind. And then that shadow that evolves into a shark, and the initial "drive by" nudge before the "WHAM! Your leg is ground chuck!" moment. Not pleasant. I spent 5 years living a couple blocks from a beach where that happened. I'm not sure how much of it was urban legend and how much was fact, but the bulk of it scared me off the beach for good. I recall swimming when we first moved down south to Galveston, Texas from Michigan. Michigan.... where nothing in the wild is going to snatch at your legs from beneath your car or bite you and cause your arm to rot off. (very often) The swimming was awkward already, due to the numerous oil rigs offshore that spewed their tar-like substance into the already brown water, and onto the beach. I grew up thinking it was normal to bring baby oil to the beach to get all the tar off. On that particular day we were floundering happily in the shallows and ignoring the trash around us-- what looked like some paper bags, half sunk, some cans.... tar... We waved cheerily to a couple of guys who came down the beach carrying a picnic cooler between them and politely ignored the harpoon-like gigs with which they saluted back. Then they waded out next to us--- and began stabbing the "trash" in the water around us and coming up with enormous sting rays, whose spastic death throes made them all the more horrifying. That paper bag was no paper bag. After stowing their catch in the cooler, the guys waved and headed up the beach---leaving us huddled in the shelter of the sea-wall, as far back from the water as we could manage, clutching our towels. No shark week for me, as much as I want to be able to not have to peek through my fingers.

What a day. 2 noteworthy stories in one afternoon. I was talking to a friend of mine who lived in Florida who informed me that a young boy had had his arm bitten off by a shark. Even more noteworthy was the fact that his uncle waded in, grabbed the shark, hauled it shore, shot it dead, and recovered the arm in time for it t be sucessfully reattached at the hospital. Later, my dad mentioned that he'd seen a kid in the emergency room who was brought in because of a fainting fit brought on by laughing too hard. Laughing. Nice. Next time I go to the hospital, that's how I want it. No more back surgery for me. Just treatment for the after-effects of a really good joke.

Speaking of good jokes, arrrrr. I must sleep.
Land lubbers.

PS. We're offically a grown-ups. We're not only in the process of buying a house, but we also bought a washer and dryer today. NO MORE coin laundry. (once we get the house.) I'm adult. Condolences can be sent to the email address under "contact."