ROANOKE TIMES
Copyright (c) 1997, Roanoke Times
DATE: Monday, March 24, 1997 TAG: 9703240119
SECTION: EDITORIAL PAGE: A-9 EDITION: METRO
COLUMN: MONTY S. LEITCH
SOURCE: MONTY S. LEITCH
THE FOLLOWING conversation, which David Stick reports in his book "The Outer Banks of North Carolina," caught my eye:
The uncertainties of eel fishing were aptly summed up a couple of years back in a conversation with a young Colington boy who was just completing his first season of eeling.
"What kind of bait do you use in the eel pots?" he was asked.
"Crabs."
"How do you catch the crabs?"
"In crab pots."
"What do you bait the crab pots with?"
"Eels."
"How are you making out?"
"Just about even, I guess. It takes all the crabs I can get to catch the eels, and all the eels I can get to catch the crabs."
Now, I've never been eeling. Nor can I imagine ever doing so (Oh, please! Yuk! Yuk! Yuk!), but the even-tempered sanguinity expressed by this boy impresses me. "Just about even" sounds so much nicer than "What goes around, comes around."
And isn't it true, for most of us, that coming out even is the best we can hope for? Isn't it true, in fact, that coming out even is a result to be celebrated?
Let's say, your car breaks down on the interstate. But close to an exit with a filling station that proudly proclaims "Mechanic On Duty!" That's about even, wouldn't you say?
Now let's say that, as it turns out, this particular mechanic works at a filling station (instead of at a dealership's garage) because he knows how to do only one repair well. But it happens to be the one repair you need. You'd come out about even on that, wouldn't you?
Or, let's say you've planned a week of dinner parties, each party designed to repay a particular set of social obligations. But you get a little mixed up when you're writing the invitations, and you accidentally invite one group of friends for the wrong evening. They show up at your door, right on time (but on the wrong night!), dressed to the nines and hungry enough to eat a horse. Holy moly, there aren't enough steaks to go around!
Suddenly, you're serving London broil instead of steaks. You're slicing each of the baked potatoes into halves, you're opening up a can of peaches to add to your dessert.
In short, you're back in the kitchen smoldering, while everyone else is out in the parlor, making polite, if stiff, conversation.
But then, your guests start laughing. They start swapping tall tales. They tell each other hilarious lies. The conversation is brilliant! And, when it's time for them to leave, they all say you're a social genius; who else would have imagined this genial mix of friends?
Well that's, at the very least, even. You may even have come out ahead.
Or, let's say, your boss is driving you crazy. For every day this month, you can cite at least one incident, sometimes more, in which she's proven herself a passive-aggressive megalomaniac. You're going to go mad! You're going to become one of those "disgruntled employees" who makes the wrong kind of news.
But then, perhaps on your way to work, you notice a flock of robins in the median. They're dancing about amidst a raft of nodding daffodils, and the early-morning sun slants into the scene at just the right angle to spangle the diamond drops of dew.
Ah! Such a moment! All sorts of ills could be said to break even at that.
Do you need an even break? Open your eyes.
MONTY S. LEITCHis a Roanoke Times columnist.
LENGTH: Medium: 71 linesby CNB