Coral reefs grow in clear warm water. They can be threatened by churned up sediment and algal blooms that cover the rather helpless stationary polyps that sit and wait for food to pass by. They aren’t completely defenseless, however; they have a trustworthy army of maintainers that remove algae. Sea urchins. In the eastern Mediterranean, black sea urchins.
But currently, spiky little sea urchins seem to be suffering from an epidemic in the eastern Mediterranean Sea. Yep, there’s an as yet inexplicable die-off of the critters that clean coral reefs. The pathogen hasn't been identified as of this writing.
Landlocked Sea Urchins
I guess I’m the equivalent of sea urchins on land. Algae and mold have been insidiously covering my wooden deck that lies in the shadow of tall trees both deciduous and evergreen on my wooded property. Sections of the deck of treated wood have been battling shade-sheltered organisms for a couple of decades, particularly when all those tall trees are in full leaf. If I don’t do something, my deck ecology will take a turn for the worse, becoming a surface that is slippery when wet, for example. And it will begin decaying as unseen fungi and maybe lichens take advantage of what algae have started to do; lichens affording the fungi and algae to do their destructive work in unison. I blame myself for putting off staining or waterproofing the deck for years. “Hey, I’ll get around to it—maybe in August when dry weather is more or less guaranteed.” And then August turns inevitably to the following August and the one after that.
Taking Charge
WELL, no more! Yep. I stained one section of the deck yesterday. Looks all right, but in the process I discovered some boards I’ll have to replace before someone steps on a rotten one and falls. Merely discovering the need for maintenance doesn’t, however, translate to actual maintenance.
That’s life when you put yourself in charge of stuff. Maintenance is key, endless maintenance. But on occasion we transfer our responsibility to maintain to some trusted “urchin.” Ultimately we alone must care for our bodies, our minds, our relationships, and our political freedoms and well-being, but sometimes we put the job out for hire: Physical fitness trainers, teachers, counselors, and politicians become those urchins. Yet, transferring responsibility for maintenance is a chancy thing; giving away responsibility means having to trust others to do the jobs we relinquish. Look what is happening to the eastern Mediterranean’s reefs right now: The urchins can’t do their job because they are infected with some unknown pathogen.
Trust Interrupted
Trust a trainer to maintain your body? You know that particular maintenance requires a 24/7 janitor, not a part-time mentor. A teacher or counselor? That’s maintenance requiring your going to the maintainer, a cost in both time and money. How about a politician—or any politician currently responsible for maintaining your political freedoms and the country? You’ve put off staining that deck for decades. And why? Because they promised they would do it for you. Have they? Or have they become either willingly or unwillingly subjected to debilitating pathogens?
Pathogens, Pathogens, Everywhere
The pathogens are out there, decimating the very maintainers we trusted. They aren’t killing organisms. They are, however, insidious, and they have interrupted the maintenance. Those pathogens are creeping socialism, overspending, kowtowing to special interests from big business to the culturally fashionable idea du jour, and corrupting self aggrandizement, not to mention (but here’s the mention) the tendency to believe that as a politician, one is somehow more important than constituents and deserving of a lucrative job that is devoid of accountability save for occasional re-elections.
The very sea urchins into which we put our trust for maintaining the health of the country, to keep the stationary constituent polyps clean and safe, are subject to those and other pathogens.
Stain Your Deck
Take responsibility. Stain your deck. Today. Stain your deck. The algae are insidious.
But currently, spiky little sea urchins seem to be suffering from an epidemic in the eastern Mediterranean Sea. Yep, there’s an as yet inexplicable die-off of the critters that clean coral reefs. The pathogen hasn't been identified as of this writing.
Landlocked Sea Urchins
I guess I’m the equivalent of sea urchins on land. Algae and mold have been insidiously covering my wooden deck that lies in the shadow of tall trees both deciduous and evergreen on my wooded property. Sections of the deck of treated wood have been battling shade-sheltered organisms for a couple of decades, particularly when all those tall trees are in full leaf. If I don’t do something, my deck ecology will take a turn for the worse, becoming a surface that is slippery when wet, for example. And it will begin decaying as unseen fungi and maybe lichens take advantage of what algae have started to do; lichens affording the fungi and algae to do their destructive work in unison. I blame myself for putting off staining or waterproofing the deck for years. “Hey, I’ll get around to it—maybe in August when dry weather is more or less guaranteed.” And then August turns inevitably to the following August and the one after that.
Taking Charge
WELL, no more! Yep. I stained one section of the deck yesterday. Looks all right, but in the process I discovered some boards I’ll have to replace before someone steps on a rotten one and falls. Merely discovering the need for maintenance doesn’t, however, translate to actual maintenance.
That’s life when you put yourself in charge of stuff. Maintenance is key, endless maintenance. But on occasion we transfer our responsibility to maintain to some trusted “urchin.” Ultimately we alone must care for our bodies, our minds, our relationships, and our political freedoms and well-being, but sometimes we put the job out for hire: Physical fitness trainers, teachers, counselors, and politicians become those urchins. Yet, transferring responsibility for maintenance is a chancy thing; giving away responsibility means having to trust others to do the jobs we relinquish. Look what is happening to the eastern Mediterranean’s reefs right now: The urchins can’t do their job because they are infected with some unknown pathogen.
Trust Interrupted
Trust a trainer to maintain your body? You know that particular maintenance requires a 24/7 janitor, not a part-time mentor. A teacher or counselor? That’s maintenance requiring your going to the maintainer, a cost in both time and money. How about a politician—or any politician currently responsible for maintaining your political freedoms and the country? You’ve put off staining that deck for decades. And why? Because they promised they would do it for you. Have they? Or have they become either willingly or unwillingly subjected to debilitating pathogens?
Pathogens, Pathogens, Everywhere
The pathogens are out there, decimating the very maintainers we trusted. They aren’t killing organisms. They are, however, insidious, and they have interrupted the maintenance. Those pathogens are creeping socialism, overspending, kowtowing to special interests from big business to the culturally fashionable idea du jour, and corrupting self aggrandizement, not to mention (but here’s the mention) the tendency to believe that as a politician, one is somehow more important than constituents and deserving of a lucrative job that is devoid of accountability save for occasional re-elections.
The very sea urchins into which we put our trust for maintaining the health of the country, to keep the stationary constituent polyps clean and safe, are subject to those and other pathogens.
Stain Your Deck
Take responsibility. Stain your deck. Today. Stain your deck. The algae are insidious.
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