Lifeguard Actually Saves Life While on Duty!! EXTRA! EXTRA!
I am approaching this piece with some uncertainty. I fear that my title is over-sensational and sensationalism is something that I do not strive to attain when it comes to these articles. Also, the content of this article (though it was an adventure!) is quite varied from my usual discover-Maine style.
But read on, dear reader, and perhaps you will find it worth your time. I think it might be.
Lifeguarding is a sort of bread-and-butter job for me. Until, of course, the day comes when I break through as a writer, buy the house next to Stephen King's, and write full-time. Our story opens upon an evening that felt like any other, just a normal day of lifeguarding at the indoor pool here in Maine where I work. But then I spotted a young man struggling to swim in the 6ft section.
I kicked off my flip flops in anticipation of being needed, and watched as he struggled doggedly towards deeper water. I readjusted the strap of the lifeguard tube that hung across my chest, making sure that the line would not be in the way, should I have to use it as flotation if things went badly.
When you lifeguard for any amount of time, you learn to look for patterns that could mean that a swimmer is not strong, and this young man was displaying some of these patterns. But I have been wrong before, and after lifeguarding for almost four years, I have only ever pulled one kid out of the water before and it was long ago, and at a pond. I am rarely called upon to use my lifeguard certification for actual lifesaving.
Sure, we retrain often and we know that we might have to go in at any second, but a good lifeguard's job lies mostly in prevention, and the people that frequent indoor pools often know how to swim.
There's less glory than they tell you in the movies.
I continued to watch as he pulled his friend underwater in an effort to stay afloat (I hesitated for a moment then - was he messing around, I wondered?). Then his friend swam away, oblivious. And then, this young man slipped underwater.
I jumped in then, and surprised myself by how quickly I was right above him, (this is why we retrain, I thought to myself) then, using my weight to counterbalance his, I pulled him up and onto my rescue tube.
He had only been under for a few moments, so he didn't cough much. Then looked at me with surprise in his wide eyes and exclaimed,
"I can't swim!"
I almost laughed right then and there. But instead, realizing that such behavior might be inappropriate under the circumstances, I simply asked him if he was alright, and whether he needed help getting to the shallow end or if he could get out at the wall where I had brought him to.
He said he could get out and so he did. Then I did the half hour of paperwork due every time a lifeguard has to jump in (another thing they don't tell you in the movies), then I changed out of my sopping wet clothes, and went home.
No thanks. No glory. That was all. But I don't do it for the thanks, so it doesn't really matter, right?
Right. And besides, he was only acting the way I knew he would - his box demanded it, after all.
You see, we humans enjoy putting people into boxes. Tie the bow nice and tidy, and we won't have to have our world-view questioned. We'll never feel uncomfortable! Pride is so familiar and warm, like a wood fire in a Maine winter.
And this young man was part of a group that comes to my pool every week. I have them all in a comfortable box. They are from a college nearby and they tend to be oblivious to the fact that I just mopped that floor, or that I don't really want to watch them make out during the half hour weekly that I must guard them. Put quite simply, their conduct can be (at times) disorderly at best. That was all there was to them.
Or so I thought.
Until he came back with his group tonight. He had been banished to the shallow end, perhaps been taken down a peg or two, poor guy, but he did come back and that I can certainly respect.
I saw him and made eye contact as I was about to go on deck and relieve the guard that was stationed out there. I saw him just in time to hold the door so that he could go through before me.
I gave him a small smile, wondering if he remembered me. And he looked straight back into my eyes and said, "Thank you." He held my gaze just long enough for me to wonder whether he was thanking me for the fact that I was holding the door for him, or for what I did for him the week before.
I suppose I'll never really know for sure, but I choose to believe the latter. My silly box isn't that important, after all.
What do you think? Too long? Not newsy enough or too newsy? I didn't change things as much as I sort of rearranged things. It seemed to work, but maybe I'm off base. Just curious to hear your thoughts.
ReplyDeleteLet me cut some wood, walk some dogs, and then some thoughts....
ReplyDeleteI thought about this cutting wood and walking dogs!
ReplyDeleteMy first thought, almost always when I read something, is: where can it be cut? I was weaned on Strunk and White and on the virtues of brevity and simplicity. And I could see places where cuts could be made!
But I've grown out of Strunk and White to some extent. They were our Bible in school, but now...sometimes not so much. Every cut I pictured tightened the prose a bit, but lost a bit of your tone and voice. Tone and voice are important, and Strunk and White really have no clue about them in their book!
So, I'd say that some of the edits I imagine would tighten it up, but (important 'but')too many of them would detract from the overall feeling the piece strives for and successfully gains.
Tightrope!
I like the reversed structure; I better like it since I suggested it--but you had to do the work and the work is neatly done.
ReplyDeleteMostly.
I know why the clutch jerks a little in the middle section, why there's a rhetorical stutter--but you find yourself kicking off your shoes/flipflops twice and jumping in twice.
That stutter stops the reader, forces the reader to organize the chronology, forces the reader to, so to speak, haul you out of the water and put your shoes back on you, so that the second de-shoeing and jump-in make sense.
Is this comment making sense?
Anyway, I don't think that what you gain in the stutter (and, as I say, I do see the point of doing it in the writing) is worth the tax it puts on the reader.
I thought this was very newsy. You're giving the reader an insight into the inner workings of something we 'know' about but never really think about. It's Maine, it's life and death, it's an out-of-the-ordinary tale. I'd read it even if it didn't have the Danielle Vine-Hines byline.
ReplyDeleteBut what is a rescue tube and where do they live when they're not rescuing someone?
I do understand the comments, does this work better? It certainly feels smoother.
ReplyDeleteDo you mind the title? It might be a bit much, but since I'm already one of the dreaded "bloggers" maybe click-bait titles can be a tool? Plus it allowed a good lead-in for my first graph. Also, which title do you like better? One is a little snarky, the other takes itself more serious. I'm not sure which works better.
Do the rescue tube parts make better sense? I almost called it a "Peterson" when I first wrote it, which is a nickname given to them after their inventor, Mr. Something Peterson. I rethought it, called it a lifeguard tube, then didn't think anything more of it! Sometimes I get ahead of myself. Also, with my BDN blog, I can link to wiki or amazon so that if people are curious of what I'm talking about, they can answer their questions easily. This might be a good place for that.
I agree with your enjoyment of this piece. I tend to always prefer a reflective style. But the content of a piece like this demands, or at least, I think, prefers a more dramatic style.
I agree about Strunk and White and cutting down. I think their teaching (and how popular their teaching became) maybe changed writing a little - people don't go on and on like Dickens and Dostoevsky did. But that can be a good thing. Brevity is an author's tool, I think. I know after I finished this, I wracked my brain on how to chop something off, but couldn't think of anything. So I just put it out there and thought I'd see what the morning and your comments did. Maybe the key is in remembering that brevity is just one of the author's tools, but it cannot be the most important tool, all of the time.
I don't object to clickbait titles as long as they honestly represent, or at least link to, what follows, which this does. I like the 'actually' in the second title--it is snarky but it also hints at one of your points, which is that the lifeguard biz is not quite exactly as exciting and glamorous as portrayed in movies.
ReplyDeleteRescue tube makes sense to me now.
It does read more smoothly and you've dealt with that stutter.
My last (and only) piece of advice: when describing action, beware of overuse of 'then.'
Good deal. I'll look it over, make appropriate changes, and publish it by my Tuesday pseudo-deadline. Thanks for all of your help.
ReplyDeleteAny time. It looks good up on my screen.
ReplyDeleteI have read your blog it is very helpful for me. I want to say thanks to you. I have bookmark your site for future updates. Lifeguard class
ReplyDelete