Ensign Simpleton

Boats can bring out a latent mariner, if there's one there. On my cruise around the western Turkish coast, I found my legs steady beneath me when the seas got rough. I could keep my balance from wave crest to wave trough, bending my knees and riding out the neptunian tumult below. And while others were trying to keep their lunch down, I stared confidently ahead, unaffected. Landlubber I may be, but it seems like I've got some nautical roots somewhere.

But I also have some moron tendencies as well, because on at least four occasions, I hit my head. I just couldn't seem to learn the lesson of ducking. I hit it on door jambs. On masts. Some of the time it was just a brush, and I barely felt it. Other times it was almost cartoon-like-- hitting my head so hard it had me wondering if I actually just felt my brain move.

So, maybe in a past life, I was a man of the sea. From what I can gather, though, I would guess I was an idiot deck hand. The kind of guy who could swab the deck just fine, but whose hatches weren't all battened down, so to speak.