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We all live in a white submersible

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I love a good media drama. Like a moth to a flame, or perhaps more accurately like a fly to dog poo, I am drawn to it. I check the news multiple times a day. I scoff at outlets that don’t deem it worthy of the front page. I also scoff at outlets that do. A media drama can antagonize me the way Adele disappoints me with her popularity.

The fact that I’m part of a Titanic/Titanic-obsessed gaggle of netizens somehow has me convinced I’m not just procrastinating. Five men with money — sums of it — on their way to Titanic in a little titanium box, are lost at sea. To empathize, the world holds her breath.

Growing up without my father, I never gave much thought to the reality in which he once found himself, well over half a century ago. Ten years old, him and his football team of siblings, on a boat, lost at sea. I wonder if the five men ever saw Titanic. I wonder if they cried.

I imagine he was lost at sea the way only a child can be: cursed with the spirit of adventure. Where did the boat depart from? Did he bring a toy? Was there a tiger? The only way I can read the scene is with the poetry of someone who’ll never know what it’s like to leave home when home is the mouth of a shark.

The Internet continues her wailing. Debris is found. The 19-year-old had only tagged along to make Father’s Day one to remember. I don’t know the story about my father’s father. I never celebrated a proper Father’s Day. My father’s father was long dead before the boat was put out to sea. Yes?

A Dutch news site tells me, at the bottom in small font, about their podcast episode. Who is responsible for the boat refugees who drowned off the Greek coast? Could we leave their bodies on the ocean floor? On Reddit, people share animated maps of the football team of rescue boats circling Titanic.

I love a good media drama. Like a moth to a flame, or perhaps more accurately like a fly to dog poo, I am drawn to it. Like a mosquito it drowns out the other humming. Like a natural disaster it refrigerates the other stories, the puzzles I fear I will never solve.