Sunday, February 28, 2010

Tribute to Capt. Phil Harris of the Cornelia Marie

A Belated Message to the Late Capt. Phil Harris
You're a different kind of Captain now. You steer the boat--tip it back upright when it tilts dangerously to the side; push the throttle so the waves rush away from the boat, not towards it; pluck your sons and friends from the sea like you would with a crane; laugh with them when they need it; lean against them when they need something to keep them standing; whisper advice in their ears--they will hear you; and watch over them.
Forever be their Guardian of the Bering Sea.
R.I.P.

To the Family & Friends of Capt. Phil Harris:
Though you cannot see him, or touch him, he is still there with you. Instead of watching over you from the wheelhouse, he's watching over you from just a little higher up--or maybe right next to you. It may seem unlikely now and feel like just a bunch of bull, but you will see it. He will make his presence known. He was dedicated to you, his sons, his friends, his boat, and that didn't end when he transitioned from this earthly plane. On the contrary, his dedication has increased ten-fold. Now, he has the strength and ability to do things his physical body could not accomplish.
Still, it will take some time for the anguish to diminish and hope to regain strength within you. With the knowledge that he did not actually leave you (which you will only come to realize over time) will make that pain fade, and content will once again fill your souls. He loved and cared about everybody on the Cornelia Marie. Why would he ever abandon you to the cold, cruel Bering Sea?

Thursday, February 18, 2010

Soccer Supporters

Okay, this night was truly awesome.
First, I showed my roommates that I can fight fire with fire. I don't think they know what to do, now. That, alone, would have amused me for the rest of the night. But no! There's MORE!
As I was walking to my Physics Discussion class, I decided I wasn't amused enough, and decided to start passing/kicking a piece of ice between my feet like when I was in soccer and we had to practice pacing a ball between our feet. I looked up just in time, breathless and grinning, to see a very charismatic man go, "Can you pass it me?"
I giggled and inquired, "Do you play soccer?"
"No," he smiled.
"I do!" I giggled and passed him the piece of ice. "Your turn!"

Him and his friend went off passing the piece of ice between each other.
I got to class early, so I waited outside while an earlier course played out.
Fast-foward until halfway through the class. After putting an excruciatingly eye-stabbing diagram on the board, my lips moved without me telling them to. "Oh, good God!" I groaned.
The class--even the professor!--burst out chuckling.
"Aw, it's not so bad," the Professor said, smiling, and thus began to explain the problem.

Fast-forward again. As I was walking to the shuttle stop, a song popped up in my head:
Strollin' along
In my thong
And ain't nothing wrong
'Cause it's just a song!


There's more, but I'll leave it at that. I was in a wacky mood, all right. But I had fun, and that's all that matters.
Again, while waiting at the shuttle stop, I started kicking a piece of ice back and forth. Suddenly, a car horn honked, startling me. I looked up, and two guys, grinning from ear to ear, were shaking their fists, thumbs up, cheering me on. I smiled and waved, and continued on my charade. They drove by AGAIN, later--or it could've been somebody else entirely--and honked at me yet again, as I was still kicking around yet another piece of ice.
What? It's an entirely entertaining way to blow some time.