I come from a work tradition of teamwork, whether it was a marketing project that required cooperation between many disparate individuals; whether a theater or television production that employed creative workers and technical workers; and most importantly, a ship's crew that required technical know-how and creative solutions to complicated issues. Life is like that, and Shipmates know that, and this journal tries to fumble and marlinspike its way through, bad analogies and all.Nowhere on land is there a true sense of crew or an appreciation thereof. If you thought the crowds at Christmas were bad, that's how I usually perceive The Beach and everyday interaction thereupon. What's so important about this ratrace that you would sacrifice anything to win it? Can't you see we all come to the end eventually? That there's no need to beat me to the next stop sign? Every time I see some overpaid ballplayer , or string-armed celebrity, or equivocating politician, or bad driver justifying their bad behavior as though they really believe it won't affect anyone else, I lose a little more bearing.
But I can recall former Shipmates and remember the time they helped haul that line, or furled that topgallant, or caught (or tossed) that line, or stood there on the quarterdeck and raised my spirits while I was at the helm.
Or hopped up on my lap and purred.
I've lost too many of those Shipmates.
Thanks for your patience.