Monday, July 29, 2013
Don't Go In The Water
I saw a news story about a teenage girl in Brazil who survived drowning only to be killed in a shark attack. Bummer for her. The photo that went along with the story showed a giant sign on the beach. The warning, in two different languages (Portuguese and English), said “DANGER RISK OF SHARK ATTACK”. There was also a silhouette of a shark, smack dab in the middle of the sign. If you ask me, the graphic of the shark was extremely sinister, its mouth parted in an evil smile. So, with this sign planted prominently on the beach, riddle me this... Why in the hell would anyone step even a pinky toe in the ocean there? Also, why would anyone want to be a lifeguard on that beach? You couldn’t pay me enough to risk being eaten on a daily basis. I wonder if they get full dental. I think they need full mental instead. I have a fear of deep water. I’m not sure why. The handful of times I went waterskiing on lakes in Utah, I didn’t encounter any sharks. I didn’t fall too often because I thought something might nibble on me if I did. Fear can be a good motivator. Maybe I drowned in a former life. That’s as good a reason as I can come up with. When I ride a ferry, I generally sit inside and read or view the scenery from afar. I don’t enjoy looking over the railing. It gives me the heebie jeebies. I’ve only seen the movie “Titanic” once, due to the part where Leonardo DiCaprio’s character sinks into the freezing depths of the north Atlantic. I makes me shudder just to think about it. I’m perfectly happy to be a landlubber. I do well in a pool, just not in a body of water where I can’t see the bottom. Give me chlorinated water inhabited by people any day. My sister has swam with dolphins more than once, and lived to tell about it. Good for her. Glad she didn’t get eaten. In my world, the scariest reality is being seen in a swim suit at a public pool. Braving foreign blobs of hair in the locker room is terrifying enough for me. And totally survivable.