You know how many of us go through life hanging onto the old saw "waiting for my ship to come in"? Well, no longer, for me. I am now convinced such thinking is an utter waste of time. Such a thought will no longer, after today, occupy any portion of my already over-loaded brain.
I mean, we have limited storage capacity, don't we? How much can we be expected to retain as we go through life, year after year, accumulating, sorting, analyzing and rarely editing down items and information that is either useless or irrelevant to our lives.
So that's it. My ship isn't coming in, I'm convinced beyond reasonable doubt. No more waiting around for that big windfall that was believed to be afloat on the high seas, just waiting for a proper berth in a friendly, welcoming port.
There would be no safe harbor for my ship. No need to stand watch, gazing out across the foamy Atlantic in search of some mystical vessel swelled with riches bearing my name on the address label.
See, 71 years ago today, the day I was born, there were no fewer than 18 ships sunk in the Atlantic Ocean. One belonged to the Royal Navy, so my intended riches certainly were not aboard the HMS Forfar, that was torpedoed by the German submarine U-99. Only 21 of the crew of 194 were saved. Another doomed ship was the Klaus Schoke, a German cargo ship that was attacked, attempts to scuttle her were initially unsuccessful and she later sank on December 5. I know nothing on board her was headed my way.
As for the remaining 16, well we shall never know for certain, but I'm reasonably sure my ship's not coming in anytime soon, if ever. It was either lost, sunk or never sailed.
Hey, at least I know, right?
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