Whatever Floats Your Boat

I went to a 4th of July party at a friend's-- she just happens to own a home up on the hill overlooking the whole valley-- her back deck is a great place to view fireworks, stars, sunsets, you get the idea.

Always when I'm at these parties, well, I kind of wonder why I'm there. I mean, I don't exactly fit in. I know this lady on a very casual basis-- she's the mother of one of my son's buddies-- but we keep in touch and once or twice a year she has these parties and I'm invited so I go. But most of the people there are the rising "professional" set. They own homes, etc. Once they start talking about what kind of stove they have in their kitchen or what kind of marble they're installing on their countertops... well, my eyes just glaze over. How can I possibly participate in these conversations?

But occasionally, I do meet some interesting people, or hear an interesting story. This time I found that this lady's mom, dad, aunt and uncle were on the boat that sunk in the Greek Isles! I was talking to her aunt and she told me the whole story. Really, it's amazing that most of the boat was able to be evacuated-- I think out of something like 1800 people they lost only two. Apparently there was some carelessness involved with the crew piloting the thing-- so now the city/country nearest the accident is suing the shipping company for polluting their ocean.

This whole incident reminds me of when I went on a cruise with my sister about 10 years ago. It was right before her wedding -- kind of a bachelorette thing -- a short cruise down to Catalina Island and Ensenada. So there we were, just on board the ship, and they gathered us all in this big room and started going over emergency evacuation procedures. And I don't know why, but we girls-- the party of bridesmaids and my sister-- just found the whole thing hilarious. We couldn't stop giggling. People kept shooting us dirty looks, taking it all very seriously. But we couldn't help it. I mean, really, who is going to remember all this when they're in a dead panic? Or even if you do, what if you are on the opposite side of the ship when it starts to sink? Or maybe the side of the ship you're supposed to report to is the one that is in the most danger? To me, the whole routine just seemed set up to give us the illusion of control, to assuage fears, and possibly keep people from panicking overmuch. And given the experience of my friend's relatives in the Greek Isles, perhaps it really works.



13 Days til Lift-Off