At our Resort in Mexico along the Riviera Maya, there was an influx of seaweed that would eventually and systematically wash up on shore. Luckily for us tourists, there were dozens of people working to clean it up.
Of course, it proved to be a never ending job. Up and down the beach they would go, pushing their wheelbarrows to and from the collection points.
One day, while relaxing in the shade on the beach Dottie asked, “What was the name of that Greek guy who was forced to roll a boulder up a hill, only to have it roll back down and have to repeat it over and over again?” I knew exactly what she was taking about. I immediately remembered that I had used that as a reference in an essay I wrote for a philosophy class I took, about 47 years ago. That returned immediately, but the name, uh, the name, what was his name??? Geez! A couple minutes later, it hit me: The Myth of Sisyphus!
That was exactly what these guys were doomed to do. That is, until they quit that job and take up the job of bringing beach drinks to a bunch of jerks, lazing away on their beach. I’m trying to be sarcastic here, or is that just ironic? Sarcasm or Irony? I looked it up - Irony: a literary technique, originally used in Greek tragedy, by which the full significance of a character's words or actions are clear to the audience or reader, although unknown to the character.
That’s it! Or, well, wait a minute. Like these guys don’t realize what they are in for. Oh well. Nice try.
Speaking of “sarcasm”, did you know that the sea weed we were seeing is called “sargassum.” True! Anyway, we sat on the beach, me in the shade, Dottie in the sun, drinking a toast to all those “Sisyphuses.”
And one more thing. One day, soon after returning home, we were taking the dogs for a walk and discovered a similar situation. There was another Sisyphus in our neighborhood.
