I once read a funny tweet that asked the question: What ever happened to the threat of quicksand?
Give or take a few words. But you get the point.
I thought this was the most brilliant Tweet I had ever read. As a kid of the eighties, quicksand was a huge threat. Almost as big as being kidnapped… I knew not to get into cars with strangers. That was easy. But what the fuck was I going to do about quicksand?
It got the best of people. I’d just give into it. Really, I would. I’m lazy and the struggle is too daunting. What other choice did I have? Even when the hero escaped, you had no clue why. His/her hand just popped out and their trusty friend pulled them out. No tips. Just him/her coughing sand and spitting out a witty tag line. And always followed by an awesome kiss.
I was screwed. I was too young to be gallivanting around the planet with a boy to save me from quicksand. And I definitely wasn’t strong enough to save him from quicksand. And more important, how does one even escape quicksand?! It just happened. The person gave in. The hand slowly disappeared. Then appropriate amount of time passed and the hero rose again. Dripping with sand, but alive to kickass again. Thank god the threat of quicksand disappeared when the nineties rolled in.
Friday was rough, folks. Everyone is healthy, but things seemed to slowly slide into the shit category And I felt like I had found myself in a vat of quicksand. I pretty much reacted the same way as I would’ve as a girl: I wanted to give in. But this time I remembered that I am old enough to be gallivanting with a boy. And he’s next to me saying, “It will be fine. Don’t struggle so much. I got this.”
I let some time pass and then he pulled me out.