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.
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.
Indifference
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