Thar She Blows! - A Pleasant Paddle at Manatee Park

“Call me Ishmael.”

That was not the first thing that came to mind as I executed a languid turn in the shallow waters of the Calusa Blueway. My first thought was, believe it or not:

 

            “Damn you, white whale!” as I struggled for balance in the drenching thrash of waters, the dripping red blades of my double ended spear glinting in the sun, begging for slack in the coiled bowline on the kayak floor.

 

Ok, it wasn’t that either, but it did get interesting. Let’s back up a bit.

 

The day could not have been more pleasant, 72 and sunny. After the damp and dismal recent January days we bravely suffered through, each in our own way, this was a much-needed reprieve from our harsh Florida winter, and a nice bit of exercise as well.

 

We put in at the mouth of a perfect mangrove tunnel, an easy paddle to the viewing area at Manatee Park in North Fort Myers. As promised, the manatees were in high numbers. Cool air temperatures and warm effluent from the nearby power plant cooling towers combined to offer the air-breathing aquatic mammals their own aqueous reprieve from the winter weather. 

 

Landlubbers gathered along the water’s edge to catch a glimpse of their underwater ballet. Short sprays of watery breath that bring to mind the name Snuffleupagus indicate the infrequent surfacing of the fully aquatic mammals sometimes known as sea cows. And that’s part of the mystique of manatee viewing. They do not engage in the dancing, chirping dolphin show of Seaworld fame. More often than not by the time you hear their occasional breath and turn to look, their small hairy pig-like snout is disappearing beneath the water for as long as twenty minutes. At least, that’s the experience when you view them from land.

 

For those who may have been concerned about entering the water amidst a congregation of 1300 pound beasts with only a quarter inch of fiberglass as protection, we were assured, “Oh, they may give you a bump.” How cute!

 

Let me tell you. I am not a world adventurer, but I have experienced a few things. I have trained dolphins in Hawaii and learned about their power, stood at the base of a live volcano hissing warnings to incautious nearby humans, dodged an outbreak of killer tornadoes that left me covered in grass and mud, and experienced the disorientation of the earth quaking under my feet. But not until today have I ridden the bare back of an upset rubber Volkswagen like a bucking bronco at an Arcadia rodeo. If there is a person who can beat my time of five seconds airborne without rope straps, I’d like to congratulate him or her. Do I exaggerate? Of course, I was in the middle of a torrent of water that threatened to pitch me into the drink, bouncing like a cartoon character on the back of a lumbering beige turnip the size of a she-shed. But as heads turned from every direction in fascinated hope of my imminent demise, I heard one fellow kayaker exclaim, “Well, I’ve never seen anything like THAT!”

 

Of course, my wife missed the entire episode, which is unfortunate, but also allows me to further embellish my tale at every telling. As one of seven children, she grew up laughing at the periodic impalings, tumbling missteps and dislocated joints of family lore. It was a survival mechanism. So I feel she was deprived this morning of a hearty laugh that would have grown louder and longer at each retelling.

 

But seriously, the “bump” that I felt telegraphed the mass and power of the creature I must have inadvertently wedged between the water’s surface and the shallow sand bottom. When these critters feel trapped, they can move! And the strange sensation of being lifted above the water from underneath is primal, worthy of a Jaws remake, and hopefully something my troublesome GoPro decided to capture if it was even turned on at that point. Consider the weight of my twelve foot kayak at perhaps sixty pounds, my own considerable mass within, and the ease with which I was tossed like an omelette on a rubber spatula, and for the rest of the morning I was just a touch leery at the approach of shadowy shapes and their passage under my boat. But they were well behaved, even stopping by with their babies who seemed fascinated with us, a concern for their future among dangerous propellers and boaters who refuse to heed clearly posted warnings. The scars on the backs of many adults testified to this, and as tempting as it was to rub their backs and bellies, we resisted that human-encouraging interaction for their sake.

 

By all means consider treating yourself with an easy rental at Manatee Park, whether on your own or with out of town guests who think all we do is lounge around our pools in the winter.

 

            “Avast, ye matey, yo ho!”

 

Best regards, your recently humbled reporter, Moby Vic.

😎

If you like fiction and you're in the mood for over 50 short stories, please consider buying "Natural Selections," at Amazon.com.

Or if you'd prefer seventy non-fiction stories inspired by a town in Illinois, please consider buying Park Ridge Memories also on Amazon. Click on the image below.

 

 

 

 

 

What I Plan to Give up for Lent

Ash Wednesday is here and I have a personal tradition I’m planning to try again this year, the first time since our move to Florida. About fifteen years ago on Ash Wednesday, after the solemn evening service of ashes and before retiring for the night I washed my face and put away my electric razor until Easter. I did not shave for forty days. I didn’t give up sugar, meat, coffee, alcohol or any of the other significant penitential offerings I heard proclaimed once I started paying attention to them. It certainly wasn’t fasting. I just quit shaving.

I’ve never been a great beard-grower, but within a week people begin to notice and comment, “what’s this?” stroking their own chins between thumb and forefinger.

My response drew chuckles and grins, heads shaking in disbelief. What a goof. He gave up shaving for Lent. 

 

“So, whose sacrifice is that, your wife’s?” they’d say.

 

I’ll admit, at first it was a novel thing to do. I relished the extra minutes I gained each morning. When I originally did this it was before the facial hair and skinny jeans trends reached into corporate America, which was mostly devoid of beards, at least where I worked. It accompanied a minor sense of rebellion that was somehow satisfying. It was also amusing to hear the protestations from my wife when I started looking scruffy and kissed her cheek. It was fun, but I didn’t mean for it to be entirely funny. 

 

After several years of this practice a few men at my church joined me in my “sacrifice.” I recall posing for a picture together. A pastor at a church in Minnesota developed an article building on my story. Hardly viral, but I wondered if I was onto something.

 

And another thing happened. 

 

Each morning, groggy and unclear, I wandered into the bathroom for a drink of water, looked up into the mirror, and was reminded, “Oh yeah, it’s Lent,” which was not something about which I previously gave a ton of thought.

 

Forty days is really long one day at a time when wandering in the wilderness, tempted and suffering as Jesus was, which is the point of all of this.

 

As Martin Luther said, “Original sin is in us, like the beard. We are shaved today and look clean, and have a smooth chin; tomorrow our beard has grown again, nor does it cease growing while we remain on earth.”

 

I can shave my beard, but the hair returns to remind me each day. And so I go through life “shaving” and failing, then shaving again.

 

Many go a bit public at this time of year on Ash Wednesday. Particularly those who receive an imposition of ashes at a morning service, then go through the day with their Christianity emblazoned on their foreheads, sensing the glances from passing strangers and feeling a little self-conscious. We notice the cross here and there on the evening news, on the foreheads of late-night comedians, pundits and politicians. Now imagine leaving the mark of the cross on your head for a month and a half. Yes, imagine giving up bathing for Lent! (Please don't.)

 

In his final days, during a torturous scourge and humiliation, Jesus submitted to a lesser known indignity mentioned in Isaiah 50:6:

 

"I gave My back to those who strike Me, and My cheeks to those who pluck out the beard; I did not cover My face from humiliation and spitting."

 

Honestly, by day forty I can’t wait to shave. I hate having hair on my face. It feels like cobwebs and spiders crawling on my cheeks and neck. As the hair lengthens it begins to irritate my lips and curl into the sides of my mouth. So if I must be sacrificing something, consider it my comfort, especially as the temperature starts to rise in Florida.

 

There’s another approach if I have the courage. When people grin at my beard and ask about it, I could say, “It’s a daily reminder of Christ’s suffering in the wilderness.” As you can imagine, that would get a very different response. 

 

Or I can hide behind the words in Matthew 6:1 if I choose:

“Beware of practicing your righteousness before men to be noticed by them; otherwise you have no reward with your Father who is in heaven.”

 

In either case, with action or with words that result not in laughter but in thoughtful reflection or even in private prayer, our thoughts should be of the season and of the sacrifice that was made for us.

 

So if you see me looking more than a little scruffy during March you’ll know why. I know the growth on my face will be much more gray than it was just a few years ago. And I guarantee it will be gone by National Beard Day on September 4^th.

😎

If you like fiction and you're in the mood for over 50 short stories, please consider buying "Natural Selections," at Amazon.com.

Or if you'd prefer seventy non-fiction stories inspired by a town in Illinois, please consider buying Park Ridge Memories also on Amazon. Click on the image below.

 

 

 

A Note From Facebook

In a random audit of our users, the Facebook Content Assessment team has made the following observations regarding your use of our free tool.

First, we would like to thank you for spending so many irretrievable hours of your precious life in the time-sucking hole Mark Zuckerberg initially dug to compare pretty faces from the safety of his college dorm room. How did he know that a vanity contest would compel women to voluntarily share photos with a socially awkward dork? Very clever, Mark.

 

Here, then, is our categorized summary of your violations on our platform during the past year. By the way, in addition to exposing your darker nature, we collect and collate your information for sinister future use, forever, and of course to make money. Please continue.

 

1. Nature photos: do you really believe that no one knows what a bird looks like? Or a turtle, snake, alligator, or fish for that matter? And stop with the sunsets. They happen every day without fail and all look basically the same. Ditto sunrise.

 

2. Food: apparently you are the discoverer of eating and cooking, the veritable Vasco de Gama of gastronomy. The photos you post of favorite meals look generally unappetizing, and often like a scabrous bandage ripped from a wound. One exception: if you ever dine in a three-star rated Michelin restaurant (you won’t), please post a photo, though they may ask you to leave if you are that crass.

 

3. Quizzes: you frequently answered ten simple general knowledge questions, proving that you’re a genius! Really?

 

4. Bragging: this one is tricky. Are you aware you’re doing it? Is that photo of a book you’re lounging around reading really about literature, or does it have something to do with your bare legs, poolside, in January, or at the beach? Oh, you live somewhere nice? Everyone knows that.

 

5. Humble Bragging: instead of an object or setting in the background, your benevolent nature is just off-camera. You’ve issued a plea for others to help you save the world. Notice how you let people know you’re saving the world? It should be noted that the worst humble braggers are those who point out others are humble bragging. Let them rejoice in their beneficence.

 

6. Vacations: we’re not on your vacation. If you invited us we would be. Stop teasing. See bragging.

 

7. Music: great song. Did you write it? Or are you simply inflicting your musical taste on others? How could they possibly not love all the same songs as you?

 

8. Friend Collecting: do you really have hundreds of friends? How many do you call on the phone once a week?

 

9. Lurking (snooping): yeah, that’s just creepy. Would you wander down the street at night looking in windows or steal and read mail? But then again, people are sharing and not being careful with security settings, so…

 

10. Your writing: this is obviously the only way anyone will ever have a chance to read your words. Getting published or stumbling into a Harry Potter phenomenon not only requires a ton of hard work and discipline but Vegas-style timing and luck. Play the lottery.

11. Weight loss (photos of): while we agree that holding yourself publicly accountable can be quite motivating, we may not think that you look as good as you think you do. Also, you’re setting yourself up for the inevitable later comment, “Oh gosh, they gained it all back.” Statistically, one-third to two-thirds of dieters gain back more than they lost, thus raising the bar on their metabolic set point, the new weight your body vigorously defends.

 

12. Memories: once was enough. Stop. Facebook tells you about your memories as a courtesy. Don’t share them. Is nothing new happening?

 

13. Google: stop correcting and informing everyone. No one needs or expects it. Instead, perhaps take a ten-question general knowledge quiz.

 

14. Politics: it is clear that you are right and everyone else is wrong. You are enlightened and they have never considered an opposing viewpoint. Honestly, they haven’t, but you’re not going to change their mind by suggesting they’re stupid. 

 

15. Noteworthy accomplishments: you swam 26.2 miles in six weeks. Wow! Michael Phelps swims many miles every morning before you wake up. How fast can you run a mile fella? Can you run a mile?

 

16. Memes: OK, some of these are good, but in many cases, people are trying too hard. Humor is being diluted by overuse. Rules of supply and demand apply here. Cut back.

 

17. You’re bored: why else would you spend so much time peering into other people’s lives, looking at pictures they volunteer for your titillation? Wait, are you Mark Zuckerberg?

 

18. Pets: OK, pets are allowed, especially baby pets. Even Mark Zuckerberg has a dog named Beast.

 

19. Posting: we have noticed that you have friends who never post anything. Nothing! And their profile picture is a silhouette. That’s weird. Why did you allow them to connect? See lurking.

 

20. Chain Sharing: you never fall for dares to copy, paste, comment, and share lengthy posts. Good for you! But are you aware that a failure to do so means you don’t love Jesus, the police, love itself, or the American flag?

21. Birthdays: if you're going to acknowledge the birthday of someone whose birthday you are aware of only because of Facebook, say something more than, "Happy Birthday."

22. Puzzles: Can you find the horse in this image? Or the one different number in a field of numbers? Is your bathroom clean? Have you brushed your teeth today?

23. PDA (Public Displays of Affection): You're sitting across the table from your significant other, tap, tap, tapping effusive proclamations of adoration, devotion, and gratitude for the blessing of their place in your life on a birthday, anniversary or Valentine's Day. This is often accompanied by a picture of the meal you shared or prepared, and of course, those flowers on the table. Yes, you're sitting across from this special person, both of you head down when you should be gazing at each other, not telling us how you're feeling. See bragging and get a room.

 

We reserve the right to update this list as you become further addicted, er, participatory. Thank you for your support. By the way, we noticed you liked a picture of shoes. We have curated a collection of styles you might like based on your inability to run a mile. Have a nice day, what's left of it.

 

😎

If you like fiction and you're in the mood for over 50 short stories, please consider buying "Natural Selections," at Amazon.com.

Or if you'd prefer seventy non-fiction stories inspired by a town in Illinois, please consider buying Park Ridge Memories also on Amazon. Click on the image below.