Failure… utter failure

So, I had hoped that in my next post I could announce that Tonya and I had successfully restored the beach- meaning, dug a trench from that gross little pond so it could flow directly out to the sea instead of festering in a pool before crawling and oozing its way down the beach past the houses, forcing us to walk an extra block to put our toes in the pacific. Unfortunately, we have failed.

It started out promisingly enough- Tonya spotted a couple of guys getting the project started, so we raced down and told them we had had the same idea for quite some time, and that we wanted to help. The guys were leaving, so we took over. We dug and dug and dug… Josh helped…and we kept digging… a neighbor and his two sons came and said they had had the same idea for quite some time as well, and they went home and got their shovels and buckets and returned to lend a hand. We all worked together…digging and digging….We dug through sand that was over our heads, graduating the edges to avoid collapses.

Tonya and I were quietly writing the screenplay for our Lifetime television movie (Casting: Tonya will be played by Uma Thurman and I will be played by Dakota Fanning and my character will be blind so that I can have lines like, “As long as I still have two good hands and I can hear the ocean….I can keep on digging”).

People were staring from the bridge, old men stopped and told us what a great community service we were doing. It was a beautiful time. The sun was shining, the sea was sparkling, our bodies were aching but our hearts were full of the joy that digging a giant trench while planning a lifetime movie can bring.

Then things took a turn for the worse. We dug through the deepest part of the sand… hoisting the bucket and shovelfuls of sand over our heads…. and just as we reached the other side we all, not 10 feet from where we needed to be- every last one of us ran out of steam. For one thing, it was dinner time and we had worked through lunch. More then that, we were just exhausted from moving an inordinate amount of sand- much of the time throwing it over our heads.

It was at this point in our movie that we were supposed to see a crowd of our neighbors coming to join us- shovels in hand, even the neighborhood dogs were supposed to get in on it to add a humorous/heart-warming touch. But alas, they never showed. We all sat in the sand, feeling the chill the of our damp clothes in the evening breeze, with the sun sinking low in the sky. We agreed we would meet again the next day and finish it together.

When the next day came we were all so sore we could barely move, plus I had food poisoning.

In the afternoon, I mustered up my strength and went down to see how it had held up overnight and I met Tim and his sons (our digging buddies) who were doing the same thing. We were all disheartened to see that the water wasn’t flowing any longer- the bottom of the trench had acquired about 2 feet of sand. The footprints along the edges told the story of thoughtless beach-goers practicing their long-jump skills. Tim was optimistic, “it’s still damp underneath” he said, “if we dig just a little more we could get it flowing again…” He began to shovel… but I knew it was over. Mostly because my food poisoning was calling me back to the house and I could barely lift my arms.

Today was the day the dream died. On my way home I came down the hill and saw the beach…and the spot where our trench had been, filled in and smoothed over. Apparently having a giant trench on the beach is some sort of “safety” hazard. I say- that giant pool of mirky, smelly water is a safety hazard.

But, at least we can say we tried. We tried, damn it, we tried.