Wow. If only God woulda let me have a kid…

But he let me mentor some amazing young folks instead.

I get lost for words at times like this (no really, I do).

There was a random boy applicant one day back in 2006…

He came in for an interview on September the something….  He fidgeted and looked down at imaginary things. He complained about shopping carts and missed expectations. He managed to get through despite self deprecation. I doubted a bit, though I felt something stir…I hired him then and the days since are a blur…

I’ve been in the;  “biznezz”,  for a few 24 hours now. But geez. No single employee has EVER asked; “The question.”

Until Benji.

I love this kid. I’ve written it before. But now, well…God, I love this kid. How can I explain?

He asked me the question. You know-the one. The one that I, Dee Fortin, asked Mr. CEO back in 2001. Las Vegas, it was. My very first encounter with all things corporate-ish.

I was terribly green back then. Nervous to meet our CEO. Did I belong? Did I have any skills at all to succeed in a world I couldn’t even comprehend? I could only muster two questions; “What do I need to learn?”  And…”Do you have any advice for me?”

Mr. CEO replied;  “Participate. Ask questions. Give answers.”
I don’t remember if I even heeded that advice. All I know is that
I tried to tow the line and listen to the folks who were smarter than me (it paid many dividends years later, not simply monetary ones, either).

Allow me to tell you that in my tenure here at the “company”, not one employee has been so forthright, so genuine as this kid. No person has been so much like me. No one as curious and as eager to figure the shit out, recognizes opportunity and grabs all he can…

He gets it. He gets me; my vision for our shop. He gets the “we” of this company.

Alas…here’s the news: He’s gonna leave. As well it should be, I reluctantly admit.

College doth steal our dependent finest. He’ll add and subtract and plus and minus. 

He’s wants to be a Gator. We joke and jest, make fun of the “haters.” 

Benji’s a great kid, I wish you could know. You probably will, stick around for the show…(he may be your attorney, your counsel when heeded. He might be your doctor, when life-saving is needed. He might just be #28’s agent, directing the Jag’s and all of their wages. Whatever he chooses, it will impact this space. It will take away shadows and lighten the place.)

He told me this the other day, in a grown-up, direct and factual way. He said; “You know Dee, I was just another aimless teenager until I started working here. I have learned so much in my two years, I have a plan for my life now. I go to college on time and I come to work and I do the right thing…”

I look up to him now, in more ways than one. (I must be shrinking back down to the earth, no way he could be growing so tall, so fast).

I listen to him now, not just hear him, (smarter than me already? No friggin’ way!)

“What can I improve upon, Dee?”

Your improvement is obvious, this is a fact.

You are all the ways and means that I lacked.

P.S. Whitney, my demon child, graduated and is going to college in the fall. What a ride this life gives us, eh?

So..the story is this;

I was reluctant to go. Why? Because I am loathe to be the least experienced at anything. But I went. Obviously. Thanks to my kayak-carrying mate and Jodi and my keen eye for jellyfishing. The water was freakin’ freezing as compared to piss-warm Florida standards. I found my rhythm, found my groove. I saw orange and purple starfish, too! Which, at this moment, reminded me of the orange and purple spatula sets that were reduced to clearance prices yesterday at the ol’ shop. But I digress.

 It took me a couple of 45 minute segments to acquire the finesse needed to maneuver properly (and not look like too much of a complete friggin’ dork!) Despite my on-land instruction, I still managed to crash my plastic tube on a rock. I loved it, though. It was peace personified. That whole three hours of manning my own boat. 

It’s pouring here in San Marco tonight. I imagine myself in the blue, sturdy canoe. Oops, kayak. Rowing upstream. Rowing against the grain. Rowing and rowing ’til my shoulder burns again… 

I wasn’t the star and I most definitely didn’t shine…but I sit here this night crossing my memory’s finish line.

I’m glad I went. I’ll go again. Somewhere different next time, no tellin’ when.

So here’s what I heard on vacation…

… Oops, in trying to relate the sounds of hearing, I heard seven things that belie the truth of what I heard. Because really, I heard this…

…Damn it! I screwed it up again! Hear nothing, is what I’m trying to say. Here is more than-way more than nothing. Ever heard nothing? No. Me either. Until Hornby. Until I got loose of my city vibe, my shitty vibe. Hear ye, here ye. So let’s try again, me. 

Hear this…A cow bird. Gracie whining cuz’ mama’s done gone fo’ a bit. A homeless yet entrepreneurial wasp, chewing the cabin post. A deep inhale of American smoke. The crisp departure of unenamored feet. The sizzle of wings just ready to eat. The buzz of bees so close to the sheets. The cawing of ravens who’re ready for meat.

Do not hear this…Air conditioners and suv’s. Sirens, trains and flat t.v.’s. Sodium lamps and angry squirrels. Feral cats and human perils. 4th of July shenanigan crackers, pops and bangs and homeless wackers.

The noise of San Marco that I most usually tune out, is the antithesis of a cacauphony that Hornby’s without.

Can you hear me now? I sincerely hope not. The silence will unnerve you. But it most surely will  serve you.

Ya heard dat?

Did you ever have to give those sorts of oral or written reports at the beginning of the new school year? I didn’t. So I’ll start now…

Imagine this scenario…

The garbage truck doesn’t show up this week. They don’t come as scheduled on Monday. You think;  “how odd,” and phone WMI to inquire. They say;  “we’re outta business.” You think; “WTF am I supposed to do with all this emm effing garbage on my driveway?”

The planet answers… “figure it out, beeotch!”

And so you do. You phone me up and ask what the hell all those Hornby Islanders do with their disposable disposables. I relay this story…

And this one…

And I ask the recycle guru, Annie, if she has any advice. She says; “Recycling makes me Hornby.”

And I can only reply, “Recycling makes Y’ALL Hornby.” There is no “I” in team, so it must mean that there’s an entire community that separates, divides and conquers their waste material. I saw it done. I had to participate in it. You shoulda seen the ginormous bag of cigarette butts that I accumulated over two weeks time.

So it goes like this, just in case we have to immediately stop being such a throw-away community; One smoke pack is divided into two- the foil and plastic are absolute garbage but the cardboard is a compostable. Milk cartons are now recyclable but please rinse and dry them as they smell foul if left to their own devices. Fruit, vegetable and nut shells are completely recyclable/compostable. However, meat bones should be hurled as far into the back 40 as you can throw, lest they attract vermin. Bacon fat and other middle-of-the road indecipherables should be fed quickly to Dookie before Gracie catches on.

Crossword puzzles that are incomplete should be hidden and immediately scrunched up and labeled as done. Completed crosswords should be placed in full view for an allocated time period before being placed in the compostables pile. Styrofoam is an absolute freak of nature and should be treated as an alien form of nonsense. DO NOT toss in any pile other than absolute garbage. We would prefer that you take styrofoam “off island.”

A word to smokers…it is me, a fellow human being and inhabitant of this Earth that had to clop your thrown away smoke ends. PLEASE, for the love of all things holy, find a fucking receptacle other than the ground we walk upon to toss your butts. Think of me, in an orange monkey suit, picking up your shit. Okay, don’t think of that exactly, but something along those lines. This goes double for Kelly. You know who you are!

So my dear friends, what I did on my summer vacation was learn. I learned how much I take for granted and how much a community can change if they band together. I am working out a plan in my head.

But I’m just not there yet.

Thank you to those Hornby residents who are the true and righteous stewards of our planet. We ALL can learn alot from y’all.

My summer vacation was an exercise in humility. My summer vacation was a gift. My summer vaction continues…