They're Hard Enough To Find, Don't Make Them Hide From Us.
Open minds are the most beautiful things
that humanity has to offer itself. An open mind takes years of practice,
and a lot of effort every day, every minute. It's human nature to think
that what we think is what everyone should think, but it's also human
nature to listen and to think independently. But people like to ask
questions to get just the answers we want. People often oppose ideas
they didn't think of ... just because they didn't think of it.
* * * * * * * * * *
When I was a boy growing
up in Marblehead, we lived at 12 Gregory Street and there was a pier
out back into the harbor. It wasn't really
of a pier really, but Dad had jury-rigged up a rope-pull
to the mooring for my little boat. I can remember getting up at 5:00
breakfast, no coffee, just dressed and out the door. Before you could
say, "good morning," I was out there in the harbor tooling around,
having a Marblehead ball of
a boyhood while my parents were still sleeping in their bed. This
morning it was pea soup out there, and
very quiet, muffled like, deep, deep fog. All I could see was the
fog all around me. I was going slow, sort of feeling my way through
the water. Sometimes I had to push
of boats that suddenly appeared. I could hear the launch
at the Transportation Company starting
up, so I went in that direction, but in the thick fog I never reached
it, becoming happily disoriented. It was a really deep and confusing
fog. I held up my hand in front of my face and moved it away. At about
disappeared. Then I noticed I couldn't see the bow of the still
moving boat. Pea soup, as they say. I was going as slow as my 5.5 horsepower
outboard engine would go when I smashed into the silky smooth side
of a beautiful white sloop sleeping in at its mooring. The damage
was minimal, becuase the rails of my boat were padded,
but the shock of impact was horrifying. I was thrown forward into
the bilge, banging my head on the little forward seat. Lost in
bottom of the harbor, only 12 years old, my leg was bleeding, my
pride was bruise-red with embarrassment, and for some completely
I was laughing hysterically. The engine was still in forward so
we were off again, careening off the sloop. Worried about hitting something
else, I jumped up grabbed the throttle extension handle, reached back
momentarily, then into neutral bringing the little craft to a stop,
sort of. The fog thickened. I looked at my leg, no problem. The boat
and I drifted along, alone in the harbor somewhere. It was quiet, the
only sound my own
breathing and the softly idling engine.
Then there was another sound. Little waves on seaweed covered rocks.
I could smell the seaweed. Then slowly something became visible.
It was the rocks off the Corinthian Yacht Club. I put the little
engine in gear
and motored carefully until I could see them, then over to the
dock. I found a place to tie up and went looking for the snack bar
as if nothing out of the oridnary had happened. I
the chef or the waitress
me something. The day was just starting and look at what had already
happened, the fun I had already had. Growing up in Marblehead ...
it teaches you to always keep an open mind.