The Curse of the Sea

I'm not comparing myself to Odysseus, but it does seem like Poseidon has something against me. I love the ocean and everything that comes with it: the beach, boats, seafood (animals and vegetables), waves, natural beauty, global weather patterns, whales, good story settings, etc. However, since I was very young I've had a remarkable (and humorous) string of unfortunate events that have occurred within a close proximity to the sea. So yesterday, as I made my way to the water and stepped on a bee in the sand that stung the bottom of my foot so deeply that I had to pull the burrowed fellow out with my fingers, I decided that it might be fun to share the list.

The first one happened when I was 7. My mom and her friend were taking my sisters and I to Daytona Beach for spring break. This was very exciting for me. For a kid growing up in Ohio, Florida was an exotic tropical location and I had never seen the ocean before. My mom's friend had a son a year older than me and we were pumped to go swimming in the waves. The day of departure (we piled in the van that evening) I was playing basketball at recess. During the game I was pushed to the ground and I used my hands to catch myself. Unfortunately a small rock became deeply imbedded in the lower part of my left hand. We couldn't get it out. I had to go to the hospital for an extraction. I spent the week with my left hand (I'm left handed) in a bandage, unable to throw any of the balls that we took along to play with. What was worse was that I wasn't allowed to get my hand wet! I got to see the ocean, but could only watch while the others played in it.

Next was the time I sliced open my right big toe as a 10 year-old. Our family headed back to the beach for a vacation in '87. I was really excited to get another chance to swim in the ocean. We made it to South Carolina and I got my first taste of ocean action. I loved it, swimming and playing for hours. On the second day I was barefoot while playing video games in the hotel arcade room. Running out of quarters I hurriedly dashed back to the room for some more. In doing so I pulled one of the doors right over the top of my toe, slicing the skin off the top. Another trip to the emergency room followed where I endured what was at that time the sharpest pain I had ever experienced.  The doctor slowly scissored off the partially attached flap of skin still on my toe. I spent the remainder of my beach time in a lounge chair with my foot bandaged, encompassed in a plastic bag, and propped up and away from the water.

Two years later I was back.  More determined than ever to get some beach time in I refused to leave when my face had already had enough sunshine. The result: a huge sun-poisoned blister under my right-eye. I wasn't allowed direct exposure to the sun for the rest of the trip.

A lot of time passed between those incidents and the hilarious occurrance in 2005.  I had never seen the Pacific Ocean before and was finally getting to experience it. My friend Justin and I were on a long, long road trip and we rolled into Portland where my sister was in from New York visiting our friend Jesse. Justin, Jesse, Holly, and I packed into my Saturn and drove out to Cannon Beach. It was breathtaking. The beach was huge, soft and warm. The sun was shining, birds were singing, kids were playing; it was like paradise. The four of us, inspired no doubt by our heavenly surroundings took off together in a gallop to the surf.  When I think back to that moment I hear the Chariots of Fire theme song playing. The beach was very wide. It seemed to be a run of two hundred yards that was full of excitment and anticipation. Then, as we approached the water's edge and with the moment of fulfillment so near I heard a noise behind me.  It was a buzzing getting louder, louder, louder... I turned around to see what it was and WHAM!!! I got smoked in the leg with a remote controlled airplane. Blood ran from both my shin and my toe where the propeller hit. The plane sat there, its engine throttling down, a chunk of my skin dangling from its slowly rotating front propeller, and the "pilot" running to see if I was okay. I was. I couldn't help but laugh as I watched the other three, already in the water and staring back at me in amused disbelief, figured out what had just happened.