Riptide

I have been watching with interest the past couple of days as Hurricane Earl rolled on shore in North Carolina. These news channels and broadcast showed images of people , even though warnings have been issues, continue to swim and surf in the foaming broth lapping onto the seashore. The commentators indicate there are dangers in that surf namely under toes. Under toes those mysterious monsters which lurk just under the surface water just waiting to grab ones legs and pull them under the water and deposit the swimmer miles away wet and dead. I have written in the past, in this blog, that I spent hours and days of my youth swimming at the “twin bridges” in South Boise. I was always being told to watch out for the under toe it could kill you.

The years passed and the undertows of the Ridenbough canal never grabbed and killed me and I still hear the warnings. I still don’t know exactly what the voices mean but I think I was subjected to something similar a couple of weeks ago at work. I guess the riptide which caused the under toe first washed up on my shore when my boss asked if I was going to attend a reception for the State senator who sounds like he is on the brink of retirement. Without hesitation I said “no”. I do not really like this guy, his politics are his music. There was a silence after my statement when I realized that I had wandered into a politically mined employment minefield. The boss subtly indicated that I might want to re think my decision and how my attendance might look very good to program which is starved for funding as mine is. I made more excuses, real ones of meetings and responsibilities could or should be doing at this exact same time. This held no water, I clearly saw my boss expected me to attend the reception. I gulped and said sure I would be there. As the day of the reception got closer and closer I tried to put the event from my mind hoping against hope that people would forget the reception and I would deftly blow off the event at the last moment and the boss would not notice my absence in the excitement of the event. This thought was dashed when on the day of the senator’s reception the boss asked how we were going to attend and I acknowledged I was going and I was going by public transit but I would be there, with secrete hopes that an act of God would intervene keeping me from the event; nothing big, bus break down, wheelchair failure or bus hijacking.

My only hope now was an Act of God. Turns out the God is a Republican. I made my connections perfectly and was soon at the blind center a State facility with a huge gathering area. There were gimps everywhere as well as agency and private non-profit people who service people with disabilities. I saw my workmates and boss and joined them to hang round eat what was offered then leave as soon as I could hoping that I would not be recognized by too many folks I know in the system. I followed my friends and got in line for the refreshments, a long slow line. It was then I got caught in the undertow, the riptide as this sea of people surged toward the Senator. I smiled, gulped and rolled forward. The senator was set up at the head of the food table. You had to shake hand with the guest before you got you veggies and punch. They had the Senator set up like a Santa picture op at Sears. Thankfully the photo incident was less painful then I anticipated they rushed us up and maneuvered the chair they snapped the image and I was gone. They talked over my head and I did not have to interface, just smile and look lost.

I forgot about the image and was surprised when I got an email of all the images taken at the event and there I was. There is not justice. I was caught in the riptide of humanity—it sucks.