Gratitude

Thursday is Thanksgiving in the United States, and I’m sure everyone has a lot to be thankful for. Football, friends, that crazy lady who kept sending politicians letters until Thanksgiving became a national holiday, family and deals good enough, you’ll trample your next-door neighbor to get them. Personally, I’ll be thinking of fish.

There must have been a moment when it all hung in the balance. There must have been a first, an intrepid adventurer, a trailblazer who carved a path for those like him, but a little more apprehensive, to follow. Without him, this brave boundary pusher, without him where would the world be? Where would we be?

Maybe we’d still be hanging out at the bottom of the sea.

***

Everyone thought he was crazy. They have to. What was he thinking – this stupid, foolish fish – going out above water? Where does he think he was going? To breathe air? He doesn’t even have lungs yet?

Admittedly, there were some of us who had started hanging out in the shallows, where the water was a little clearer, a little more oxygenated. But to go on land? There was no water there. Only air, only dry, withering, killing air. You’d have to be the dumbest fish on earth to leave the water and go onto the land.

Just because he has little legs he thinks he can go on land? And they’re barely even legs! He doesn’t even have feet and he thinks he can go on land!

It must be something that runs in his family. His crazy uncle nearly died because he stuck his tail above the surface of the water until it dried out. All the mucus was just gone, just like it had been burned off by a great big fireball, leaving a brittle crinkled bunch of scales. He could barely swim after that. Then, just our luck, we get attacked by some raiding hunters. It wasn’t our fault he couldn’t get away. It wasn’t our fault that he couldn’t protect his family. Too bad, but good riddance.

That’s what you get, isn’t it? Everyone’s comfortable; everyone’s safe, and these crazies have to push the envelope muttering about the need for progress. I’m sorry but I’m quite happy down here. You can take that bone-dry dirt; I’ll stick to the mud, thank you very much.

And of course he seems to exert some ungodly influence over the children. Suddenly everyone thinks she can go above water. I overheard some kid bragging about walking on four legs (not that he had any). This is where these crazy dreams take us. What’s next? We start growing lungs? A closed cardiovascular system? Opposable thumbs?

No thanks. I’m perfectly happy where I am.

Of course that didn’t stop him.

He just flopped out of the water and started shimmying around in the sand. He looked perfectly idiotic. He looked like a…well, he looked like you’d expect him to look.

For a while, the whole expedition looked as if it were going quite well. People were crowding the shallows, some were cheering. Parents had let their kids out early to watch. Not me, though. None of my family are getting poisoned by this drivel.

Only when I heard gasps did I start paying attention. Now he was really flopping around. I could see his mouth flapping opened and closed. Then he started rolling back towards the water, and he splashed into it.

Maybe he was hurt, but it looked like he was going to survive. It’s a shame.

With idiot dreamers like him, what will the world come to?