Oceans Emotions

Yesterday, I cried quietly watching a film in a nearly empty theatre. I was positioned in a high-back, comfy seat with Sailor perched at the edge of her cushion on my right and my Mom on the left. The giant screen over us flashed beautiful scenery, shocking moments of disbelief, and touching love scenes. But you won't see any of the featured actors and actresses marching the red carpet or pictured on the cover of grocery store tabloids anytime soon.

You might be wondering if it was a "chick flick", a true story drama, or an adventure film but it was none of the sort. The film we saw was Oceans, a Disney Nature film that was released in celebration of Earth Day. Please go see it, if you haven't yet. The footage under the mass of blue water that most of us see from shore of unusual sea life, majestic whales, hilarious penguins, acrobatic dolphins, fighting crabs, adorable sea otters provided entertainment better than any dramatic film I've seen recently.

I was giddy with excitement when I told others about memorable scenes much more so than when I saw Brad Pitt for the first time in Thelma and Louise. I realize it is because this was the first time I have seen non-mammal, undersea life act with sense, determination, and skill. Watching crusteaceans like shrimp, lobsters and crab search for food and protect their shelter with purpose was phenomenal. I had always thought they were less able to reason, more reactive then active. Clearly, I was wrong.

It was such a positive feeling to know that there are places in the ocean that are untouched by human hands. I felt a twinge of jealousy while watching the dolphins flip, chase, play, and feed in their great blue world. How wonderful to live life in the moment, letting nature take its course and do what you need to do only when you need to do it. And what an incredible playground they have!

I remember as a child bawling through scenes in Benji, Bambi, The Black Stallion and later through Seabiscuit and Free Willy. Animals, just by their nature of being innocent and unable to speak to humans, instantly capture my heart whenever featured on film. I've always been curious about their thoughts and as I child I absorbed books about gorillas and chimpanzees, filled my room with stuffed creatures, watched Wild Kingdom religiously, and dreamed about a future writing for National Geographic or as a veterinarian.

So, then, why was I crying this time ? It was the sheer beauty of massive whales breaking through the blue to show all their glory as they breeched near feeding grounds that brought the lump in my throat. The sweetness of a mother sea lion urging her calf into the water to teach it to swim caused the warm, salty droplets to roll down from my eyes and rest into the creases of my mouth. My tears left tracks, too, because I remember dearly days and amazing nights I spent sailing on the ocean, rocking up and down with each wave gazing at the horizon and discovering the beauty of silence. I miss the serenity, the closeness to nature that just being there among whales and dolphins provides. And finally, I wept because I did not hold true to the vision of myself that I had while dreaming as an adolescent.

Now when I watch the purposeful actions of wild animals, I can't help but contemplate human behavior--everything from family relationships to large socio-economic and environmental issues. Frankly, we humans have screwed up. We have selfishly thrown garbage and poisonous waste into the ocean thinking that it just goes away. But we've been dumping

in someone else's environment. Creatures whose life is centered on survival. We have threatened species and created a massive heap of trash in the Pacific. Dead dolphins, whales, and seals are discarded everyday from massive fishing nets belonging to humans trying to make a living. And here we are faced with another oil spill, larger than the last. Pierce Brosnan in the voiceover during the movie said, "The cries (for help) of the endangered species may never be heard." Those are the biggest reasons I had to reach for a tattered kleenex from my pocket to wipe my wet face. I felt responsible for these actions. How do I justify these horrific actions to the little girl in my past who loved animals so much?

Oceans doesn't dwell on punishing us. The movie tactfully mentions threatened species and touches on pollution in the sea, but more importantly shows what exists for us to preserve. What beauty there is that we need to take action to protect. The film felt motivating in an organic way, not in a stuffy, "green" marketing manner but through giving us a vision into the world that lies beneath us and surrounds us. It is our responsibility to take care of not only ourselves, but the gift of the earth that we are blessed to dwell upon and those that we share it with. It is, for lack of a better term, human nature that gives us compassion. So listen to your heart and take care. Because that's what we're supposed to do.

In Perfect Harmony

A Visit with Jerry

"I'm a writer," I said to the deep, fast-talking voice on the other end of the telephone line. "Of what?", the man asked, obviously curious. I blurted immediately back at the nosey stranger, "of non-fiction." It was mid-morning on a Wednesday and I decided to answer the multiple post-card requests from my high school (Our Lady of Mercy) alumni association to call and update personal information. The man assigned to my call asked basic questions to summarize my life since the '80s and we had finally landed on the details of my present-day endeavors. "It's true," I smiled and thought to myself. In three words I successfully put an answer in all of the long blank lines I will face after the question "employment"on applications and questionnaires in my future.

The voice on the other end of the line belonged to a guy named Jerry Garcia, believe it or not. He was gathering my details to put into a book the publishing company plans to sell to Mercy graduates who have the desire to read about their fellow classmates' lives. "Oh, that's cool," Jerry said when I revealed my profession. I smiled at myself thinking he's going to say "groovy" in his next breath. But he didn't have a chance. I eagerly jumped in. It was my turn to be the interrogator and I just had to ask, "Is Jerry Garcia really your name?" He chuckled an almost perfect replica of the real Garcia's raspy smoker's rolling giggle with a "Yep," hidden in there somewhere adding that he, like the original, was from the same generation and from southern California. We plowed through his lists of questions while I imagined Jerry's bouncing wild, grey curls, round glasses and wide, bearded face taking notes about my life on his computer.

Towards the end of our conversation, he tried to sell me the "Facebook book" of all the alumni of my high school in hard or soft cover. I declined and he eventually respected my choice. I didn't really have to explain that high school was a long time ago and I didn't feel the need to share my personal history or read about anyone else's. After all, as the real Jerry once sang, "There is a road, no simple highway, between the dawn and the dark of night, and if you go, no one may follow, that path is for your steps alone.”

"Thanks, Jerry, " I said like I'd been wanting to say that all of my life, wearing a self-proclaimed hippie grin from ear to ear as I hung up the phone. The conversation was a pleasant, surreal surprise and I did appreciate the uncanny connection with the name behind one of my musical faves. Not to mention the music that since this encounter has been streaming through my head. Was he really named Jerry? Was it his way of remaining anonymous? Was he using this name as a marketing tool to make me talk? How many Jerry Garcia's are there in the world? I don't know, and it really doesn't matter. He made my Wednesday. So, if that's ever me making calls on the other line......I'm Amelia Earhart. Who are you?