Okay, it is time to change things up a bit. My last several posts have been, well, a tad cranky. Given the full spectrum of humanity that visit the beach, I do experience more than the normal share of individuals who leave me scratching my head, muttering under my breath, or counting to ten in an effort to maintain my composure. Be it someone determined to snatch my rescue can from my hand for their photo op, the druggie on a bad trip, the angry drunk, the gang banger looking to alpha dog the entire beach, or parents who treat a visit to the sand as a vacation from parenting, I encounter all sorts of whack jobs, nut cases, and just generally unpleasant people. Not surprisingly, they do leave an imprint. Also not surprisingly, they are not the only ones who populate the playa. They don't even dominate the percentages so they shouldn't dominate this blog. For all the bad, frustrating, and just plain ridiculous that I encounter there is plenty which is rewarding that offsets it. Today it is time to give the positive its due.
Ocean Lifeguarding is great because...
Well let's start with the obvious. As I have mentioned before, my office is the beach. No fax machines or monkey suits, just sand, surf, and sea. The vast majority of the public spends their week working their tails off just so that they can go play where I work. How can you beat that?
Speaking of monkey suits, sure the single or double breasted has its place and alone can be an aphrodisiac to some. The thought of the daily duty of tying a noose around one's neck, regardless of how fine the silk may be or how much power may pump from its threads, is unpleasant, if not unsettling. Business suit or bathing suit? I think the choice is obvious. Give me the Reds. I'll happily leave the so-called finer threads for those who find repugnant the thought of working 5/6's naked, and sand around the toes instead of socks. (Oh, for those of you not in the know, the "Reds" is the familiar term for the lifeguard swimsuit.)
My job description is in the title. I guard lives. When necessary, I save lives. Sounds great, huh? The funny thing? For whatever reason, there are some who would like to change lifeguard to something like Marine Safety Officer or Aquatic Safety Specialist as if being called a lifeguard is a bad and inadequate thing. You can call a garbage man a sanitation engineer, but it doesn't change the fact that he does the very respectable job of taking out the trash. I'm a lifeguard. I guard people's lives. I don't need to be called something else in order to feel better about myself. The job title is damn fine the way it is.
Have can will rescue. That is all I need to do my job. I need my red rescue can. I am not encumbered by a computer or the aforementioned fax. I am not worried about toner refills, how to fix the electric hole punch, whether table two needs more rolls, or how to sell you these absurdly expensive jeans that make your ass look fat. I look for beach goers in need. I see them. I grab my red rescue can and save them. On big days I will accessorize with fins. On big days, you should too.
As I am not encumbered by a computer, I don't stare at a computer screen all day. I have 20/17 vision when most of my peers are now figuring out which frames are best suited to their face. I scan the horizon while so many scan a monitor a foot or two from their face. You have to love a job that sharpens your physical skills, not dulls them.
My breaks are workouts on the beach. If I feel like a long run, I log some laps between towers. I do not stare at the same potted plant in front of the treadmill. Pumping iron? The tower provides all sorts of opportunities for body weight exercises. Oh, and then there's this little thing called surf. When it is up, I hit the waves for either a bodysurf or surf session. I don't know how many gyms offer wave machines, or pay you to ride them.
I don't suffer from a vitamin D deficiency. I spend the year alternating between a natural base tan and a healthy shade of brown (and periodically an uncomfortable shade of red). Yes, I have to lather on the sunscreen else I meet the reaper due to a melanoma-abbreviated existence. It is the price that one must pay for this employment opportunity. I just try to get the water resistant stuff without the parabens. Winning one battle isn't worth it if you lose the war due to a conspirator in your midst.
I watch dolphins. I don't watch traffic.
The onshore winds blow the stink of urbanity inland. They also bring changing weather. Although not everyone's cup of tea I do enjoy watching the arrival of a front and the pleasure of a summer tropical storm.
I reunite lost children with panicked parents. You can't beat that moment when seven year old scared Sally screams "Mommy!" and rushes into the arms of sobbing Susan and Steve. Trust me one this one, nothing warms your heart more than when loved ones reunite and you are the bridge that closed the gap.
That being said, I realize for that moment to occur, at least one child and one parent must be in a state of great distress. I certainly don't wish that anxiety upon anyone, but I am glad that when said individuals find themselves in such uncomfortable territory I can be of assistance. With that in mind...
I rescue drowning swimmers. Better put, I save lives. I give individuals a chance at a future that had I or any of my coworkers not been there, they would have lost. Permanently. Like the above, I realize that to save someone, that person has to be drowning, i.e. dying. I don't wish that sensation upon anyone, but as a lifeguard I am glad that I have the skills to be there, to give them a second chance, to give them the opportunity of falling in love, knowing their grandchildren, or hiking the Muir Trail.
Simply put I have a job that tells me implicitly I am making a difference. I realize that external validation is not necessary for a fulfilling life, but it is never unwelcomed. Certainly not when you exit the water supporting a teenager who almost discovered what Houdini already knows only to be embraced by the tearful father who cannot stop thanking you. In those moments, the belligerent gangster, the bitchy dog walker, the problematic drunk, the perv, and the just-angry-at-the-world patron all disappear. I remember why it is that I do this job. I remember why it is that I was drawn to it in the first place. And I remember to enjoy that day's sunset all the more. Oh yes, that is something else that makes this job a peerless one. I watch sunsets.
© Copyright 2011 David S. Carpenter. All Rights Reserved.
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