Hi everybody. Welcome to my blog where I talk about my past, often to forget about my present.
It’s crazy. My daughter is visiting. I got her a job at a local restaurant I go to and she’s making more money than the people that look after me. It’s crazy. She makes more than someone who’s looking after a human life. I saw my mom deal with this as a teacher in the 70’s. This country is so backwards. We should be rewarding the people that look after other people. OK, I’ll get off my soap box now and briefly go to the past.
Man, I used to love scuba diving. I used to dive all the time. I guess it was a form of meditation. It’s pretty wild. I guess it feels like being in space. You’re weightless in the water. One of my favorite things to do was find a very high cliff under water, you know, like 60 feet high, make myself a little heavy in the water and jump off the cliff. You would sink in slow motion. It was cool. You have to know what you’re doing. I told you before, but once on a dive, I grabbed the wrong weight belt. I grabbed the weight belt of the guy next to me who was like 300 pounds, and jumped in the water, and sank like an anchor. In a shallow dive that would have been no problem. But the problem was I was in a hundred and fifty feet of water. Have you ever sunk like a stone in 150 feet of water? It’s not fun. I got mask-squeeze really bad. My eyes were a mess. My ears were a mess. It all happened so fast. It was amazing. The pressure was unreal. I had to go through decompression. I went up slowly, in stages. The problem was, I lost my mask on the way down. And I had to remove some weights from the belt when I was at the bottom. My instructor made a sign to me like “You’re crazy.” My eyes were a mess for like 3 months. They were all red. I looked like a cartoon character or someone that’s ready to go out for Halloween. I’ve got lots of other stories about scuba diving: sharks; moray eels; other diving accidents; panicky Japanese tourists. But I enjoyed it. It was a good form of escape.
Love and miss you guys. Love, B. Nice
