The Gulf

It is rather surreal, staying at a beachfront hotel on the Gulf of Mexico while the BP oil well gushes forth. There is the temptation to just put it out of your mind, just ignore it, pretend it is far away or does not matter. Afterall, the sand is still warm and soft, the sun is still shining, and the waves lap gently against the shore. So on the surface, things seem nice. And I think a lot of the people have made the decision to just go with that surface appearance, forget the news, forget history, forget all that is brewing and dying just off shore. Certainly it occurs to me to just slip into that lull, because of course, I myself am fine.

But I do not really want to forget. I am in fact looking for reminders of what is going on off shore, asking the waiters where their fish comes from, talking to people at the bar about the oil leak, taking photos not of the beautiful scenery but of signs of the catastrophe. Because I sense it is meaningful, and I want to do something about it, even if it is just to say, "Yes, I notice." Seems something of this magnitude deserves at least that. 

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