Monday, March 28, 2011
Wednesday, March 23, 2011
Last Saturday
The day began with a private group out for a funeral ceremony involving the dumping of someone's ashes over the side of our ship. I had never been apart of one before, not even on land, so of course I was a little intrigued. They arrived with champagne and finger-foods all ready to be served by us. Everyone seemed pretty nice. I learned Bob had passed in his 60s leaving behind his wife and adult children. A few smiles revealed that some time had gone by since the passing.
Later the widow poured the ashes into the ocean. Sniffling followed and then words were shared. Some people told their favorite memory of Bob. Some made jokes to lighten his death. Some just drank the champagne. And then a man stood up who had been quiet the entire trip. I had noticed him earlier. He had been socially isolated from everyone else and by his own choice I am sure. A strong looking old guy with balding gray hair, he too was probably in his mid 60s. He started to speak but three words into his story his voice broke apart and so did he. Everything got quiet, everything. He attempted to speak again but soon fell back to pieces. I looked around at my fellow crew and their faces went solemn too. My own face was feeling a little heavy. Bob had been his best friend. I bet they probably knew each other their whole lives. It seemed the death had even hit this man harder than it had the widow. His glass shook, then fell to his waist. He got quiet again. Soon a woman interrupted to share another thought about Bob, but I don't think anyone heard her. We all seemed stuck. Stuck staring down at the wet cracks in the hull deck. But I do not think thats what we were looking at.
Two hours later I was working another shift with a different group of people. A man stood up, turned to the girl next to him, and kneeled before her. He proposed, she took the ring, and we all clapped. It felt weird witnessing such an event in the same day. I am not sure why, but I guess thats why I am writing this post.
Thursday, March 17, 2011
Monday, March 14, 2011
Tuesday, March 1, 2011
Whistling
Today the wind coming across the bridge was insane. It was clearly in a hurry to get somewhere south, perhaps to escape the cold weather or go see friends in San Felipe. Anyway my purpose right now is not to describe the wind or its intentions. What I have sat down to write about was the whistling that the Bridge of Lions was nonchalantly doing today as I rode over it. It was whistling a tune so loud that I almost fell off my bike when it reached my ears. (I did not fall off my bike) The sound went through pitches up and down as different sized gusts powered and weaved through it. I was so surprised by this I slowed my pedaling just so I could listen to it sing for a moment. I am not saying this whistling was in perfect in rhythm or key, but it did sound pretty cool.
I wonder if the bridge builders had slightly intended for their design to create such an effect. My guess is they did not, however its fun to imagine they might have. I can see the builders smirking over their blueprints, leering over the specific placement of metal beams and cement. I hope they did.
The more likely situation is that the event today was purely coincidence and such an effect it not that rare among bridges, but I don't find that to be as much fun to think about.
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