This
is the week of the iPhone! That's right, Apple has added an "S" to the
product designation and hopes that we'll think that "S" stands for
"Super."
Meet the new thing, same as the old thing; it's the next big thing!
I don't think so. Video capabilities and a few bells and whistles aren't all that. Trust me, I added them to the bedroom before my divorce and the results were unimpressive.
In fact, the next few years after that were pretty dismal. Oh
the bells, whistles, and cameras were still there, but it was just
shrill tweets, and images of Rob crying in his pillow alone.
After clearing everything out, things got better. I
don't blame a few party favors for my woe; woe happen. It's part of the
great feeling cycle. That's right, it starts with feelings, and then
goes to a whole lotta woe, then comes back to more feelings. Yup, it
looks a little like this:
Feelings, woe, woe, woe, woe, feelings.
And that's why I was alone crying in my pillow. Still, here I am two years after my divorce and I can joke about it. That's because the wave of woe actually made me stronger.
Oh
sure, you can say that it's all the Pirate Queen. And yeah, she has
something to do with it, but the reality is, I could never handle a
woman like the PQ without overcoming the hard times. We only attract
the best people when we're at our best, and we only get that way by
going through the worst.
It's true. When
we're up against the wall, we're sharper and more in tune with
everything around us. A dust mite could sneeze and we'd know it.
That's us at our best. What about our worst?
Fat and happy. We're relaxed and flabby. Trust me, I know the flab I speak of. Right now I'm technically unemployed, and my biggest concern is who's watching Persephone while I go help the Pirate Queen move.
Burrrp! Another Grape? Should I have the frond wielding servants turned up a notch?
What was I talking about? Oh, Yeah, my kit bag full of kitty woes.
Don't
get me wrong. The fat and happy times are important too. We need to
rest and recover. Nothing eals you faster than a little happiness.
Last
time the Pirate Queen was here we went to the beach. We ate sandwiches
and grapes and watched a woman turn from a light ecru to deep scarlet.
"That's gonna hurt!"
"No pain, no gain."
"What's she gaining?'
"Lot's of pain."
Sometimes it feels like that's all we do: go through pain for pain's sake. I know I thought that about my divorce. That's why I love the beach. It's nature at it's most terrible and gentile.
Holding
the Pirate Queen's hand, I watched the waves lap up on the shore
licking children's toes as they giggled and tried to run away. When I
first moved to California, there was a restaurant at the end of the
Huntington Beach Pier called Restraint at the End of the Pier. If
you walked inside the restaurant, there was a picture of their original
location being demolished with the end of the pier by a wave lapping at
it's toes. The picture didn't show anybody giggling. I think there were specks running away though.
That didn't stop people from moving forward and recovering. "We can rebuild it, we have the technology."
Yeah,
and while the waters calmed, they did. The should have renamed it and
moved it to the middle of the pier, because after I'd been in
California for two or three years, another wave came and tore out the
end of the pier again, taking the restaurant with it.
They rebuilt it again, and this time it stayed. Well, not the restaurant. That business went under and stayed there. Apparently rebuilding costs more than fried fish revenues. The end of the pier now holds a Ruby's. But it is still standing.
See, hard times wiped out the end of the pier twice, and both times they rebuilt. Since the last time, we've had plenty of storms, and the pier has held. The
hard times made them rebuild stronger. That's why I love going to the
ocean when things feel overwhelming. It reminds me that there is a
balance and the little fish usually gets wiped out in the end and are
replaced by large franchises. That gives me warm fuzzies.
Maybe
it's because I think we're all the pier and not the restaurant. The
restaurants are those little things that decorate our lives: cars, jobs
friends loved ones. Yes, I know, I'm gonna get
an evil glare from the Pirate Queen for calling her a decoration, but
she's a very lovely tasteful one. See all these adornments are things we can't control. As pier,
I don't have a say in who sells burgers off my hairy back. All I can do
is create the best platform for them to do what they do best. And when
time comes for a change, they'll go, but I'll still be here.
My life as a pier. It's not permanent. But some days are sunny ebb and flow, some days crash with power and darkness. The last few years have left me dazed with ringing of the ocean in my ears--or was that the bells and whistles? Anyway, now I'm reaping the benefits of the strength that it brought.
At least until the next big wave.