Eight Feet Deep

Okay, I do admit sending the occasional fan e-mail. Most times the person I am writing doesn’t write back. Not so with Stephan Pastis, creator of my favorite comic strip, “Pearls Before Swine” that is linked on my blogroll.

Stephan is a former attorney who was able to syndicate his very funny and thought-provoking strip. To be quite frank, I was thinking of giving up reading the comics altogether until I came across Pearls. I see a lot of myself in both the Pig and Rat, the strip’s two main and diametrically opposed characters.

In an e-mail today, Stephan asked if I knew anyone who read the “Star-Telegram” in Fort Worth and if so, would I ask them to write the editors to request Pearls be included in their comics. So I ask all of you who might read the Startlegram to help a brother out. Write the editors and say you grew up reading the Star-Telegram and that it helps you breathe more easily and slows down your heart rate from a dangerous to an acceptable rhythm. Then, tell them you want “Pearls Before Swine” in their comics.

The world needs more of the Rat and Pig, not to mention the Zeeba neighbas.

Perhaps I shouldn’t have bragged about the air quality improving in my city. For the last two days we have been under what is called here an “Ozone Action Day.” These are forecasts for ground level ozone, or smog, that are above a threshold for what is healthy.

The latest data from the Texas Commission on Environmental Quality (formerly TNRCC or ‘Train Wreck’) gives the Beaumont-Port Arthur area a “moderate” air quality rating which is in between what is good and pollution levels that can cause health problems for certain people. Yet, I believe I have experienced some discomfort from the smog during the past two days.

My eyes have had that itchy feeling although not nearly as bad as the misery I experienced during mountain cedar fever season when I lived in Central Texas. A little Visine every now and then fixes me up in dealing with the summertime smog. That wasn’t the case with that toxic mountain cedar a.k.a. ashe juniper. I took prescription Clarinex and used special allergy eye drops, and my eyes still itched quite spectacularly. I never knew allergies could be so bad.

It is kind of hazy out. That is just something you come to expect here during this time of year. As that sage Rosanne Rosannadanna said: “It’s always something.”

You may say many things good and bad about my home state of Texas. But you can never say that capitalism isn’t alive and well in the Lone Star State. My proof is this ad I saw on Houston’s Craigslist:

“TEXAS flag bikini resembles the great TEXAS state flag.
All sizes available.”

It is hard to imagine that William B. Travis, Jim Bowie or Davy Crockett — before being overrun at the Alamo — would have envisioned women running around in skimpy particles of the Texas flag. Then again, who knows what ones sees when violent death is imminent. You hear about your life flashing before you. I mean, seeing bikini-clad women wearing the flag of the adopted homeland you are about to be killed for probably wouldn’t be the worst, last thing to see.

Now I am sure there are people who vehemently disagree with the selling of what might be provocative articles of clothing that resemble our state’s flag. Flags — especially the U.S. flag — seem to hit a lot of nerve endings as if these symbols were desecrated every 10 seconds. You kind of expect to see Sally Struthers looking out at you with sad eyes on the TV screen asking you to send money and save a flag. Then there is that whole rebel flag controversy. Our people sure get worked up over symbols.

I don’t know what one is supposed to think if they are a red-blooded Texan about Texas flag bikinis. But this red-blooded Texan doesn’t think it’s traitorous or disrespectful or disgusting depending on, of course, who is wearing the Lone Star as a bikini. Because you know not everyone can pull off wearing a bikini. Leslie Cochran, who hangs out around Sixth and Congress in Austin, comes to mind.

So I just ask my fellow Texans to be as accepting and open-minded as they usually are and … Okay, I just ask my fellow Texans not to make a big fuss over Texas flag bikinis. But Leslie really shouldn’t wear one.

By posting the above photograph I give literal meaning to the old cliche “That’s water under the bridge.”

Flowing somewhat slowly under that bridge is Big Cow Creek, at the swimming hole and party spot of my youth. Yes, before the the Internet there were creeks in which kids would swim. This is especially so in the rural areas like those where I was raised.

Summer days past you might have found a half-dozen or more kids swinging off a rope and diving into the cold creek to beat the Texas heat. I don’t know if this is the case nowadays. On the day I visited a couple of weeks ago, the place was deserted.

It makes me wonder about that cliche — water under the bridge — meaning it is a past matter and mostly inconsequential or best forgotten. What does that really mean? Why is water under the bridge something best left alone? Is it because the past really doesn’t matter? Because as you surely know, the past often matters. Or is it that certain things matter while others don’t? Aha! Maybe. Perhaps. Not.

People really have some strange phrases pass their lips. But it doesn’t really matter. You know, it’s old hat. What’s done is done. Time to piss on the fire and call in the cliches.

That’s kind of a breathtaking photo above of the now decommissioned U.S. Coast Guard Cutter Tamaroa. I say it’s breathtaking. It certainly is to me and I imagine it is to many people like myself who have spent time at sea in a storm. The picture was taken in October 1991, probably off the coast of Massachusetts. It was during the real “Perfect Storm” in which the fishing vessel Andrea Gail was lost. I could say something mean about George Clooney, who played the Andrea Gail’s driven captain in the movie, “The Perfect Storm,” but I won’t. Hint: Not a big George Clooney fan.

Such storms are the kind of environment in which the Coast Guard works. They plow the rollicking ocean in ships such as the 205-foot Tamaroa or fly their helicopters in the storms to try to save lives. Many times the people they will be rescuing are jammed up because of stupidity. But, yes, the good old Coast Guard rescues stupid mariners too.

We used to deride the Coast Guard when I served in the Navy because their ships primarily wouldn’t operate too far from land. For instance: “You have to be 6 feet tall to join the Coast Guard. Why? Because if your ship sinks you have to be able to walk ashore.” But that is just the kind of good-natured BS that goes on between members of different armed services.

I long have had a deep respect for the Coast Guard, even before I joined the Navy. As a matter of fact, I thought about joining the Coast Guard instead of the Navy. But a hometown buddy who enlisted with me and went to boot camp with me talked me out of the idea. It all worked out.

These Coast Guard people are also protecting our ports the best they can from terrorists. That is a difficult task in itself. The Coast Guard was one of the “lucky” agencies to get folded into the new Homeland Security Department after spending a number of years under the U.S. Department of Transportation. They are still military even though they are not part of the Defense Department. Hey, it’s a long story.

I had a friend tell me a story one time which I have no idea if it’s true. The person who told me was always good at embellishing. This guy served on an icebreaker before the Navy turned icebreaking duties over to the Coast Guard. He said they had “liberty call,” in Antarctica where they were able to get off the ship for a little while onto a big ice patch. He said a Coast Guard icebreaker was also with their ship. The Navy’s sailors gathered on the ice in their denim working uniforms. But the Coast Guard’s sailors had to wear dress uniforms ashore. It sounds like bullshit to me. But it’s a pretty strange story. Talk about your dress codes. Who knows, maybe they didn’t want the penguins in their tuxedos showing them up.