SHARK WEEK

As it happens, I’m  a certified shark diver…  

Some would say, “You mean, you’re a certifiable nut?”

No.

But, as a certified shark diver, I’m uber-aware of the numbers, which means I’m hyper-happy with the statistical realities of shark attacks on the humans species.  Meaning, I’m intimately conversant with the word “miniscule”.

So, today, my littlest, nary a decade old, saw her first shark — not with a glass pane intervening, but in the same “tank”, known as the Atlantic Ocean.  Actually, seven sharks, or so… at a depth of 55 feet. 

3 feet away, Caribbean Reef and Black-tips, roaming peacefully along, taking casual notice of their bi-finned, betanked guests.

My kids are all special.  They handle things that adults find incomprehensibly impossible.

Am I bragging?

Yes.

But, too bad if it bothers you.  A proud father has the right to ladle praise on his youngest daughter.  Especially if she’s a real champ.

Much better than me in the water.  MUCH better.  For sure.

She takes as normal what some in my generation still see as inconceivable.

 But the future of our world lies with those who see the same horizon we do, with less fear and trepidation.

In my view, our youth deserve more credit than we afford them.

Indeed, we are in good hands.

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