Madden Mischief

While walking along the beach, I often wonder what’s buzzing in the minds of tractor drivers. In a relatively short time, we see a valiant army of them whisk away a near neanderthal of seaweed, soon restoring our beautiful beaches to once again pristine clean, eminently walkable stretches. 

Yes, it’s a tractor triumph and to us residents, tractor drivers are heroes.

But what are they thinking as they pull, drag, plow and bury the ever-incoming contaminated seaweed they smash into, or deposit under, the sand upon which almost every day we walk upon, but a bit more carefully from July to September!

Are they hating as much as we do that sarcastic sargassum?  It’s as if the seaweed is saying to all the wealthy retirees residing in expensive oceanfront condos “You hombres have it too damn good!”  Then the weaselly weed provides coverup, harboring bees that sting their feet so they can hardly walk straight!

Are the hard-working tractor commandos so sick and tired of having to collect and hide all the free-floating, burly brown seaweed that peaks in summer on beaches where I happen to live in what for a brief time becomes the seaweed capital, South Florida?

On the other hand, maybe they’re grateful to seaweed for providing them with extra heroic work along with bee-weekly paychecks!

I wonder if they’re saying to themselves “Good ole seaweed!  Keep on a floatin in. And I’ll hide thee from thine enemy, that mean ole sun that bakes you.”

I can imagine how resilient tractor drivers yearn to send their sons and daughters off to colleges, so they won’t have to drive tractors for a sea weedy living.  Probably they’re envisioning stately academic buildings full of classrooms on campuses surrounded by healthy green grass, without a soupçon of seaweed.

Whatever they think, the problem they’re combatting briefly stinks to high heaven, and literally looks and smells awful until it’s swiftly removed, buried or hidden soon as humanly and mechanically possible. 

Also, it’s not very sanitary to tread upon, especially with feet with footprints as mature as some of those striding serenely around utopian, castle-like oceanfront condos such as the elegant Chalfonte in bountiful Boca Raton. 

Yes, Boca Raton is a truly gorgeous place, and the tractor drivers perform a herculean task, do an awesome job keeping its beaches clean and safe from bee stings from those grounded critters occasionally lurking in the steamy seaweed before each day the tractors make it disappear like magic before our very eyes. 

Thank you, tractor drivers!  Keep up the good work.  And when you’re thinking of what college to send your son or daughter to, know that some of the best are right here in Boca Raton, whose campuses are clean and beautiful all year long without a trace of that insulting, unsightly, thankfully very brief visitor, seaweed. 

Tom Madden and his wife Rita relish where they live as they’re both devoted beach walkers. In fact, Tom’s first job was on the beach as a lifeguard in Atlantic City, NJ where he grew up. These days when not beach walking, he’s writing books, blogs or news releases for clients of TransMedia Group, the PR firm he founded when he left NBC and of which today his daughter Adrienne Mazzone is  president and ever bee-like in buzzing with publicity ideas for clients.