When to Ask for Help

A while ago, when I still had a shred of pride about any kind of athletic skills I might possess, I was in Hawaii and had the opportunity to learn how to windsurf from a co-worker, Diane.  That week there were reports of two people that went swimming too far out.  They couldn’t make it back and were eaten by sharks. 

Diane was teaching me how to windsurf, and as I continually fell off and got back on the @#$% board we drifted out quite a distance.  I finally had enough fun and it was time to head back in.  The plan to get back was she’d windsurf the board, and I’d just hang on the back.  Unfortunately whatever I was doing kept knocking her off the board.  So I said, (being the manly man that I am…was)  “You go ahead, I’ll swim back.”  (I almost burst out laughing when I read that statement now.) 

We’ll cut to the chase here:  Ocean current very strong / Steve very weak…I’m headed out to sea. 

Now just a touch of panic sets in as I realize there is ABSOLUTELY No Way I’m making it back in.  And I’m not within shouting distance of anyone…other than the Sharks (Of course if I was going to call for help, that would also presuppose I have any breath left).

Then (in what can only be considered a true act of God) I see a rowboat with lifeguards speeding by.  They’re headed out to pick up someone else who is out past me and in trouble.  On their return trip they come by me.  One of the lifeguards looks at me with an inquisitive face.  It could be that he doesn’t want to insult me, but he asks, “Do you need help?”  I never cease to amaze myself.  But for a split second, I almost said, “No, I’m okay.”   Fortunately there was a guy in my head named Survival.  He picked up a large shovel and put Mr. Pride’s lights out.

So with absolutely no self-esteem left what so ever, I swim to the rowboat.  My arms at this point were like led weights, it’s amazing I didn’t just sink to the bottom.  They might as well have gaffed me.  That would have been a lot less embarrassing than the maneuver they used to roll me into the boat.  The ride back is quiet...having been neutered and all.  I turn and ask the lifeguards, “So, how many idiots like me did you pick up in week?”