This one's for me (and Leslie)

This is a long one, a rambling one, and very possibly a short-lived one. I'm reclaiming turf no one wants anyway.

Shark jumping, anyone?

Well, the Facebook post got over 1,200 hits, but when all is said and done, I changed no one's mind, and it's not a post I'd want to read 3 months after I stroke, bored to death in my wheel chair, wiling away the few hours I have left.

My Dad, a royal pain in the ass in so many ways, enjoyed life. He had a lot of strokes, enough that he volunteered to take a moth-balled A-4 Skyhawk and plant it anywhere in Iraq (with him still strappedin the cockpit) the POTUS ordered. He spent one of his precious last few days careening down a Cape May avenue in a motorized wheel chair, right smack dab in the middle of the double yellow line, laughing--at least I think it was laughing, hard to tell with all the paralysis.

My sister's wake was so joyous some folks crashed it thinking it was a wedding reception.

My Mom's last act of consciousness was a laugh.

We're an odd bunch.

***

A couple of hours ago I was thigh-deep in a warm, dark Delaware Bay, scurrying up trouble. Comb jellies glow when disturbed, an eerie electric blue as evanescent as phosphenes. Close your right eye, and push on it--see the light? That's a phosphene. Ain't English grand?

I was tromping through the water, whooping like a Confederate on Little Round Top. I'm not sure the jellies enjoyed it half as much as I did, no way to tell. Most of the ones I lit up tonight are going to be beached by Earl in the next few hours. It's kind of neat that I know these things, but even neater realizing that the jellies know things I cannot possibly ever understand.

Why was I on the beach? Hunting ghost crabs. I have a dream--some day I will lead children on ghost crab expeditions, freezing the critters with my flash light, sharing ghost crab tales as the kids marvel at the crabs..

I held my glasses out towards one of the crabs--it pounced on the ear piece,pulled it towards its mouth, then rejected it once it had a taste. This, of course, is of no interest to the reader. But it is of interest to me.

I knew the jellies might glow tonight because I wrote about them last year. Life's funny that way--we are all dependent on cycles, cycles dependent on the sunlight hitting the Earth. If the jellies were here last year at the end of summer, it's reasonable to expect them again now.

They did not disappoint

***

Everything alive today has been evolving for over 4 billion years. "Evolution" is a misnomer, not a word originally used by Darwin. He called it "descent with modification." Even the seemingly simplest organisms are blessed with gifts beyond our imagination.

***

A hurricane is looming just off-shore. Earl. Oh, it's just a Cat 2.

I like motorcycles. I used to lgo fast on motorcycles. I like going Category 2 fast--96 mph or better.

If you've ever ridden a bike at those speeds, you know that the wind becomes personified. It's real. It can hurt.

Now imagine trying to carry an oak tree through that wind.

I pray that it misses. A pox on those who wish otherwise.

***

I just cursed, and cursing works. Humans have selective memories. If one of my readers decides to root for Earl despite knowing that I may be harmed by it, then breaks his big toe in the next 3 months, he may well attribute the broken toe to my curse.

Or cancer. Or death of a loved one. Or any other event that is so terrible that we pretend its probability is near zero (despite the evidence that none of us get out of here alive).

Tonight I saw flashes of light emanating from the shallows of a muddy bay--I don't see this often. If Earl changes his mind (see, anthropomorphizing) tomorrow and destroys my home, I will blame myself for messing with jellies. I cannot help myself.

We find reasons for everything. We are evolutionarily wired to do so.

***

One reason Facebook resonates so is because of our need to belong. We used to belong to nature. In the 20th century we separated ourselves enough to find solace in clans without nature. Now we no longer need the clans.

We just need electrons.

Here I am beaming a series of electrons into your eyes. I'd rather have you here, sharing grits and grog.

When it gets down to it, I don't give a rat's butt about Facebook or Twitter. I care about the very few who get down this far on a post. /me waves to Leslie and John and Jessica and Sean .

A life dependent primarily on electrons is not a well-lived life. It may be lucrative. It may be exciting. But it's not a life.

I'd rather live the life dependent on photons, on the sun, on the phosphorescent critters less than a mile from here busy eating, and flashing, and reproducing, and God only knows what else.

Facebook cannot do that.
The Delaware Bay can.