it was a dark and stormy night ... really. I'd never seen such a display of lightning or heard such thundrous rumblings. I had been planning to take down a couple of the trees near my house, because I was afraid that if they fell, they'd strike the house. At once, there was a horrific blinding flash at the same instant came dreadful cataclysmic explosion ... I checked the house to find any damage, but there was none.
Next morning, I noticed long slivers of oak and beech all over the roof and the lawn ... later, a further look showed me that I wouldn't need to take those trees down after all ... the lighning had done it for me. 60-foot tall oak and beech trees, shredded to splinters.
A humbling experience, if ever there was one.
Re: your intended mid-atlantic swim.... I'm so glad you didn't.....you probably would have frozen your nuts off (english speak, lol) and not have resurfaced in time to sign up for xanga.......your memory was really intense.....thanks for putting it in writing.;-)
it was really, REALLY dark... it was night-time everywhere, outside and in. The darkness had been blanketing everything forever, or so it seemed. Looking back, I recall the pervading sense that I had no control over ANY aspect of my life, yet I seemed to be the only person in that situation. I felt really ALONE. My actions and behavior in those days were expressions of my desperation and sense of isolation, and only managed to increase the gap between me, my shipmates, and the rest of the world. REALLY DARK, right?
I'd been considering a midnight swim ... it would have been difficult to get past the security watches, but certainly not impossible. I was building up my nerve, and didn't want to be seen hanging around any of the weather-decks until The Big Moment. I encountered a copy of "Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance - an Inquiry into Values", and that turned on a light and opened a door.