okeechobee mess
for decades, festered out of
public consciousness
I enjoyed reading It’s Toxic Slime Time on Florida’s Lake Okeechobee by Dan Egan (author of “The Devil’s Element: Phosphorus and a World Out of Balance” and a journalist in residence at the Center for Water Policy at the University of Wisconsin-Milwaukee’s School of Freshwater Sciences) in the New York Times on July 9, 2023.
Well written and informative, it was one short line that chilled my heart.
The Okeechobee mess, caused mainly by phosphorus-based agricultural fertilizers, festered out of the public consciousness for decades.
That last bit, festered out of the public consciousness for decades.
You cannot read this article and not come away with the standard, ‘yes, its a problem and something SHOULD be done.’
But it festered out of the public consciousness for decades.
Folks heard about the problem.
Folks were aware of the the problem.
Folks didn’t like the problem and the problems the problem brought with it.
Folks were all in agreement that something should be done about the problem.
But it festered out of the public consciousness for decades
Festered …
When I was a kid, I spent my summers on shore on Lake Michigan.
I remember one day when I was about 12, walking the beach, I ran my hand along a piece of driftwood and I managed to get a big sliver under the nail of my index finger.
It hurt.
It hurt a lot.
But I didn’t tell anybody.
I didn’t tell anybody as I knew that when I did, my Dad would want to look at it and then he would tell me the sliver would have to come out.
My Dad was a Dentist and his solution to most ailments was to yank them out.
When I was 9, I broke a top front tooth.
A few years later, he had me in the chair to cap the broken tooth.
It was years before we had a relationship again.
So I kept quiet.
It hurt but I kept quiet.
At least I kept quiet until my finger swelled up to the size of hot dog and turned purple.
My Dad caught sight of it and said, “Let me look at you finger.”
Then, “WHAT DID YOU DO?”
I explained I had picked up a sliver but I would handle it.
My Mom came over and looked at my finger.
The sliver had started to fester and ooze was oozing out under the nail.
It looked bad.
It looked scary.
“Should you take him to the Emergency Room?” Mom asked?
“We’ll go the office,” said my Dad, “I can get it out.”
Nobody asked me what I wanted to do.
We got to my Dad’s office and he turned on a few lights.
He went to an operating and turned on the big dental light and turned on the other dental equipment like the spit sink and such, out of habit I guess.
He gestured to the chair and told me climb up.
Then he raised the chair and swung a tray in front of me.
He covered the tray with a white towel and told me to lay my hand on the tray.
He then rummaged in his equipment cabinet.
The last time that happened, he came out with a hammer to hammer my new tooth into place.
This time he came out with a dental syringe and needle and a vial of Novocain and gave me pain killing shot in my wrist.
He kept pocking my finger and when he decided my finger was numb, my Dad dug into my swollen finger with one of those sharp little dental hooks.
I screamed and yanked my hand back.
My Dad says, “THAT DOESN’T HURT! I GAVE YOU A SHOT OF NOVOCAIN!”
I yelled back, “In wrist, not my jaw. Are you sure it was the right place?”
He looked at me for a second.
Picked up the syringe and gave my wrist another shot.
He waited a few more minutes then he pinched my finger and didn’t flinch.
Both of us were satisfied and he dug into my finger and in a short time, he pulled this chunk of wood the size of about a half inch piece of spaghetti out from under my finger nail.
A lot of ooze and pus and other ucky stuff dribbled out.
The relief was instant.
Relief that the sliver was out.
Relief that my finger felt better.
Relief that Dad was done.
He wrapped my finger in some gauze and he wrapped up the sliver to take home to show Mom.
I had a problem.
A problem that I wanted to be done with.
A problem that I wanted to forget about.
But the problem festered.
And it became a bigger problem.
I needed relief but festering out of consciousness was not going be any help in the short run or the long run.
But festering out of the public consciousness is too often the solution or at least the solution, de facto.
I think of other problems.
Weapon violence.
Climate change.
The angst against the Church.
The angst within the Church.
Folks are aware of the problems.
Folks don’t like the problems and the problems that the problems bring with them.
Folks are in agreement, not about the problems themselves, but that something needs to be done about the problems.
And, I know in my heart, they will all festered out of the public consciousness.
Truly, for evil to triumph, we just need to bored or maybe overwhelmed to the point that problems fester out of the public consciousness.
And some folks plan on that.
No Haiku For You 