I read once that crocodiles kill as many as 100 people a day in Africa. It seems that the same spot is used each day to pull water from the
river for the village. The crocodiles have learned where and when to be, to feast on the local villagers. Numerous people have died this
way in the mouth of a crocodile. But due to their thirst for water and the life giving properties there of, to the river they do go.
Could not the local news organization inform the people that maybe there is a better way to get the water they need? I know that the
people in these villages may not have CNN on the television, but surely someone must have seen what happened and passed it along.
You know, while sitting around the fire one night, when it was noticed that someone was missing, don't you think the person who saw
what happened might speak up?
Sometimes it is just indifference that causes the suffering of man. How many times have you looked down while walking across a
parking lot to see a nail or screw or some other sharp object like a metal file, and did not bend down and pick it up? Yes, a metal file! I
know it sounds absurd, but I picked up a completely intact metal file in my tire and a partial file a few days later. Both tires ruined! Had
the owners of the files just taken the time to pick up what they had dropped, I would not have suffered. Of course on the other hand if I
had just saved all the files and screw drivers and bolts and screws and so on that I have got in my tires over the years, maybe I could
have built something with them.
What did you do in the parking lot? Most likely you just made a mental note of the obstruction, and went the other way. Could you not
have at least put up a warning sign? How many people must suffer because of your indifference? I go out of my way to pick sharp
objects up out of parking lots or the street for that matter. I have had people bring trash to me while in the process of picking these
objects up, mistakenly thinking I was working there. I care about people, but I guess I am strange! If I lived in Africa, you can be sure
that I would erect a fence with warning signs all around the watering hole.
Someone once said, "There is nothing worse than mans inhumanity to man!" I was lying there contemplating these very words and the
crocodiles in Africa as I gazed into an almost cloudless sky. I am sure many people thought it was a great day, and were, in fact, unaware
of the profound thoughts and images that could be surmised from that quote. To be sure, man has never been very kind to one another.
It can be so bad in fact that words never really convey the utter horror of any given event. Even knowing all this, I lay there wondering
how my friends had got me into this.
My world was being rocked by many violent motions. There were many harsh sounds accompanying this rocking, invading the quiet of
an otherwise perfect day. I was tumbling down a raging river of despair with no end in sight. Nothing I seemed to do helped what was
happening to me. I bounced from one rock to another, never gaining a grip on my senses; somehow I needed to gain control of the
situation.
How could I have been so foolish? Had I not learned anything the first time? Would I ever recover? Then, as though in a dream, there
were other sounds coming into my world. I closed my eyes and tried to concentrate on them. What were they? Where were they
coming from? Was it just the last and final cry of my ravaged soul? Was it the sound of the crocodiles teeth as they tore me to shreds?
"D..v..ge.. t..e g...f" The same words kept repeating over and over again. "D..v..ge.. t..e g...f" The words came to me as though poured
through a strainer, or maybe the teeth of a crocodile? Pieces were missing and I could not seem to understand no matter how hard I
tried. Then in a flash, the light of understanding came to me. "DAVE GET THE GAFF!"
It did not seem like such an intelligent thing to request of someone in my deep physical despair to grasp a gaff. Did they not know how I
was feeling? The one with the rod in his hands showed indifference to my plight, concerned only with his, and the fish at hand. Could
he not see that by the way I was sprawled on the deck of the boat, that I might harm myself with this gaff just to end the pain that I was
in? Just another display of "Mans inhumanity to man," I guess.
As the fog of despair lifted, I jumped into action. Well maybe I sprang. Okay, lets just say I moved. Of course it only took one expertly
placed slash of the gaff, for me to sink the hook deep into the fish at the side of the boat. When I, however, attempted to lift the fish
into the boat, it became apparent that the loss of intake over the last few days, because of seasickness, had taken its toll. I would need
some help. I yelled for another gaff to be put to use.
Due to the excitement of the moment and the utter loss of memory of my recent incapacitation, this request could be heard in all the
Western United States and many of the Canadian Provinces. The problem was that the only other soul on the boat other than the one
with the rod in his hand, was sprawled on the deck of the boat next to where I had been a short time ago. The call to action bought him
back from the brink of certain agony, and he too soon lent a hand to drag the mighty halibut into the boat.
The weather was great for those with their feet on the ground, but out on the water the ever-present tide changes and wind had
conspired to cause landlubbers such as I to long for the stability of the land. But the halibut for us was like the water to the villagers in
Africa. Neither the danger nor the suffering we might endure, stopped us from venturing forth each day to slay the mighty halibut. I am
sure that even if some kind soul had posted signs, warning of, "sea sickness ahead", it would not have stopped us.
The halibut was big enough to get our picture up on the "Wall of Fame," at the local resort. This was cause for much celebration on my
part, although the friend, with whom I had made the bet, and who did catch the fish, seemed less enthusiastic. The bet you ask? Well, I
had said that by the end of our trip there, we would be on that wall, basking in the envy of all that saw us. And now we were! The steaks
that night were not as good as the picture on the wall, but at least for me they were free!
Like the villagers after a successful trip to the watering hole, I to began to plan my next trip to the Bay. You see the memory of the
turbulent waters had already become a thing of the past. Only the halibut and the beautiful and rugged seashore, remained.
river for the village. The crocodiles have learned where and when to be, to feast on the local villagers. Numerous people have died this
way in the mouth of a crocodile. But due to their thirst for water and the life giving properties there of, to the river they do go.
Could not the local news organization inform the people that maybe there is a better way to get the water they need? I know that the
people in these villages may not have CNN on the television, but surely someone must have seen what happened and passed it along.
You know, while sitting around the fire one night, when it was noticed that someone was missing, don't you think the person who saw
what happened might speak up?
Sometimes it is just indifference that causes the suffering of man. How many times have you looked down while walking across a
parking lot to see a nail or screw or some other sharp object like a metal file, and did not bend down and pick it up? Yes, a metal file! I
know it sounds absurd, but I picked up a completely intact metal file in my tire and a partial file a few days later. Both tires ruined! Had
the owners of the files just taken the time to pick up what they had dropped, I would not have suffered. Of course on the other hand if I
had just saved all the files and screw drivers and bolts and screws and so on that I have got in my tires over the years, maybe I could
have built something with them.
What did you do in the parking lot? Most likely you just made a mental note of the obstruction, and went the other way. Could you not
have at least put up a warning sign? How many people must suffer because of your indifference? I go out of my way to pick sharp
objects up out of parking lots or the street for that matter. I have had people bring trash to me while in the process of picking these
objects up, mistakenly thinking I was working there. I care about people, but I guess I am strange! If I lived in Africa, you can be sure
that I would erect a fence with warning signs all around the watering hole.
Someone once said, "There is nothing worse than mans inhumanity to man!" I was lying there contemplating these very words and the
crocodiles in Africa as I gazed into an almost cloudless sky. I am sure many people thought it was a great day, and were, in fact, unaware
of the profound thoughts and images that could be surmised from that quote. To be sure, man has never been very kind to one another.
It can be so bad in fact that words never really convey the utter horror of any given event. Even knowing all this, I lay there wondering
how my friends had got me into this.
My world was being rocked by many violent motions. There were many harsh sounds accompanying this rocking, invading the quiet of
an otherwise perfect day. I was tumbling down a raging river of despair with no end in sight. Nothing I seemed to do helped what was
happening to me. I bounced from one rock to another, never gaining a grip on my senses; somehow I needed to gain control of the
situation.
How could I have been so foolish? Had I not learned anything the first time? Would I ever recover? Then, as though in a dream, there
were other sounds coming into my world. I closed my eyes and tried to concentrate on them. What were they? Where were they
coming from? Was it just the last and final cry of my ravaged soul? Was it the sound of the crocodiles teeth as they tore me to shreds?
"D..v..ge.. t..e g...f" The same words kept repeating over and over again. "D..v..ge.. t..e g...f" The words came to me as though poured
through a strainer, or maybe the teeth of a crocodile? Pieces were missing and I could not seem to understand no matter how hard I
tried. Then in a flash, the light of understanding came to me. "DAVE GET THE GAFF!"
It did not seem like such an intelligent thing to request of someone in my deep physical despair to grasp a gaff. Did they not know how I
was feeling? The one with the rod in his hands showed indifference to my plight, concerned only with his, and the fish at hand. Could
he not see that by the way I was sprawled on the deck of the boat, that I might harm myself with this gaff just to end the pain that I was
in? Just another display of "Mans inhumanity to man," I guess.
As the fog of despair lifted, I jumped into action. Well maybe I sprang. Okay, lets just say I moved. Of course it only took one expertly
placed slash of the gaff, for me to sink the hook deep into the fish at the side of the boat. When I, however, attempted to lift the fish
into the boat, it became apparent that the loss of intake over the last few days, because of seasickness, had taken its toll. I would need
some help. I yelled for another gaff to be put to use.
Due to the excitement of the moment and the utter loss of memory of my recent incapacitation, this request could be heard in all the
Western United States and many of the Canadian Provinces. The problem was that the only other soul on the boat other than the one
with the rod in his hand, was sprawled on the deck of the boat next to where I had been a short time ago. The call to action bought him
back from the brink of certain agony, and he too soon lent a hand to drag the mighty halibut into the boat.
The weather was great for those with their feet on the ground, but out on the water the ever-present tide changes and wind had
conspired to cause landlubbers such as I to long for the stability of the land. But the halibut for us was like the water to the villagers in
Africa. Neither the danger nor the suffering we might endure, stopped us from venturing forth each day to slay the mighty halibut. I am
sure that even if some kind soul had posted signs, warning of, "sea sickness ahead", it would not have stopped us.
The halibut was big enough to get our picture up on the "Wall of Fame," at the local resort. This was cause for much celebration on my
part, although the friend, with whom I had made the bet, and who did catch the fish, seemed less enthusiastic. The bet you ask? Well, I
had said that by the end of our trip there, we would be on that wall, basking in the envy of all that saw us. And now we were! The steaks
that night were not as good as the picture on the wall, but at least for me they were free!
Like the villagers after a successful trip to the watering hole, I to began to plan my next trip to the Bay. You see the memory of the
turbulent waters had already become a thing of the past. Only the halibut and the beautiful and rugged seashore, remained.
Indifference
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