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Out of the blue
By George Miller
When I was a kid and folks used to interrogate me about what I wanted to be when I grew up, Iíd always say, "I wanna be a fish." This was, naturally, before I found that this was a bone headed career choice. So I quit telling that one around.
Point is, Iíve always had a kinship with the creatures of the sea. Thatís probably why Iím such a gung-ho diver and have occasionally forgot my human limitations and got myself into some deep, deep guano.
Which brings me round to my story. There I was at 50 feet, blown off by my dive buddy, down to my last 300 pounds, and seriously tangled in some real possessive kelp. My knife was tangled out of reach, I was near panic Ė and running out of the near part pretty fast Ė with no options, so to speak.
Now Iím here telling this story, so I mustíve figured a way out. Bit if it was you telling me the ending to this instead of the other way around, itíd be a few days before the laughing stopped. But I gotta tell it, just the same.
Amazingly enough, it took me only about two minutes to chew through the stems. I told you it was gonna sound wild. At first, it was just a kind of impulsive reaction, but I wasnít tangled bad, just in a few bad places. Taking turns between tooting of my reg and chewing stipes, I managed to do it.
Now you know I gotta give you the lesson-learned part of this tale,
so here goes: never, never, dive alone, but never completely depend on
anyone else to save your ass. Oh, and by the way, brush regularly and visit
your dentist often, cause you never know when you might need to chew yourself
out of a jam.
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