Yesterday my son put on the episode of The Simpsons where Homer eats the ghost pepper and goes on a strange odyssey to find his soul mate. You know the one. Must have seen it a hundred times. At the end, Homer is driven into the depths of lunacy, despairing that he is doomed to walk the earth alone and unloved. In his madness, he plots to destroy a lighthouse so that dead sailors will be his final companions. He waits for their doom, in the darkness, laughing hysterically in a comingling of horror and self-pity. At the last moment, the inner door of the lighthouse flies open, and Homer’s true love, Marge, (of course it is her, who else) comes to his salvation. She saves his soul, and brings him back to sanity. The sailors dance for joy on the shore, and the lovers hold each other in the bright glow of the lighthouse flame. My son turned to me when the episode ended, and seeing the expression on my face, he said, ‘Oh my god, what’s the matter with you?’ What could I say in answer? I told him that the whole affair was just so funny that I felt like crying. He shook his head and wondered aloud at the state of fathers. I am telling you this story now, simply because I know you, of all people, will understand me.
I hate the sea, and everything in it.