Tuesday, April 28, 2009

No Joke About the Deadliest Catch

No joke about the Deadliest Catch tonight. Sig is hot, g__da__it. As a matter of fact, most of them have a certain amount of sex appeal. Old or young, shaved or bearded, as long as they have most of their teeth. Their ruggedness and confidence, the way they handle... the way they handle their equipment makes me want to be a pod. Without the crabs. We could probably fit two or three deckhands in a pod, yes?

Seriously, tonight's episode was about some of the guys who passed on. Whose families still miss them. It is so easy to take life for granted, to complain about how hard life is. And then I find some reason to be thankful for the things I do have. The voice of the captain calling "Mayday, mayday, mayday" as calmly as he could, knowing that people would die minutes after he had to stop calling for help, hearing that brought a wave of solemn reflectivity over me. Some sounds can say what words cannot express.

The computer generated visual during the retelling was overdramatic, unnecessary, even unprofessional. Almost cartoonish, I felt as though someone was trying to impress me at a very inappropriate moment. Perhaps I will feel differently tomorrow, but I doubt it. I wonder what the wives, the families must think. Feel. I hope they don't feel as though their tragedy, their heartache has been dramatized to put a buck in someone else's wallet. That feeling is not good; it is like being robbed.

When I think of all the opportunities I have had, the ones I've experienced and the ones I've missed, life has been rather sweet. I admire the folks who do the tough jobs. I have worked a few of those. It is not easy.

One of the first things I noticed about too many of the people in my current profession is that they complain a lot. A lot. About things they should not complain, like being able to sit down every day for lunch. Thirty minutes to sit and enjoy lunch with co-workers is not enough. Hearing it over and over, I finally had to say one day "Look, I used to get five minutes to eat before I had to be back on the floor (waiting tables)."

Lately, I have heard myself crying a sad tune over some of the silliest minor things... Stressed out is not the way I wanted to end the semester (as graduate student), the easiest semester academically that I have had in more years than I want to tell. I managed to pull out some sanity in the very last week. Mid June, I get to take chemistry. :-) Maybe I will learn how to make things explode.

Speaking of making things explode, here's one last word on the crab fisherman. Mmmmmm.......

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