My Wayfarers Are Out There
In 1991 I lost my Ray-Ban Wayfarers in waist-deep water at the beach. I was twenty-nine and just realizing that I couldn't remember anything fun to do in the water. I ran into the ocean with great excitement, but I didn't know what to do after that, so I was just standing there.
And then this wave hit me from behind and knocked my sunglasses off. I awkwardly tried to keep my head above the water while I groped for them. Then I got serious and went under, running my hands all over the bottom. I opened my eyes, but all I could see was brown water.
When I came up, sputtering, a wave slapped me in the face, and I fell over. I got turned around a little bit and then I wasn’t sure where I had been standing. And just like that, they were gone.
I really liked those sunglasses, too. They had prescription lenses and cost me a lot of money. Wayfarers were still in style back then. Well, sort of in style.
"Do plastic sunglasses come in with the waves or go out with the undertow?" I wondered. I sat on the beach awhile to see if they would wash ashore.
I think floating things wash in and sinking things roll along the bottom and out to sea. Does that sound right to you? I think that’s right.
Anyway my sunglasses never came in, and that would be the end of the story except for one thing:
My Wayfarers are out there somewhere.
I believe that when things are lost in the ocean, they still exist. I do believe this.
I’m pretty sure I believe this.
There IS something scary and mysterious about Davy Jones’ Locker. Who knows what goes on down there? When things sink to the bottom of the ocean, doesn’t it sort of seem like they don’t exist anymore? Part of me knows sunken things still exist, but another part of me can’t seem to grasp this.
I mean, it’s just about the same thing as not existing, being at the bottom of the ocean. Especially if you are my sunglasses. No one will ever find you and even if they did, you are prescription sunglasses. They’ll just throw you back.
My Wayfarers are screwed.
Do you think the people who lived when the Titanic sank believed that it really was down there somewhere? Did they wonder exactly where the people were? Did they want to know if they were floating around the ocean or trapped inside the ship? Did they wonder about all the stuff, like shoes and plates and sunglasses?
Did they have sunglasses back then?
When they found the Titanic in 1985, I felt good inside. I could see that things are as they should be. It sank a long time ago, but there it was sitting on the bottom, just like the scientists said it would be. Scientists tell us that things still exist when they sink to the bottom of the ocean. They get bent and twisted and covered with crusty formations, but they do not go out of existence.
The Titanic reminds me that the scientists are right. Good for the scientists. I love those guys. You can always count on them to be right about stuff like this.
Because of the Titanic, I really, really know that my sunglasses still exist in this world. I know this, but I want to know exactly where they are. I need confirmation. It’s like when the waiter tells you the plate is hot. You believe him. You KNOW the plate is hot, but you ARE going to touch it the minute he walks away.
You cannot eat until you touch the hot plate. You don’t know why.
I need to know where my Wayfarers are. I don’t know why.
I want special knowledge of their location to be granted to me. If I had three wishes, I would demand to know where my sunglasses are, then I would wish for more wishes.
Maybe I could get a letter from some secret government agency for finding lost things.
“Mr. Preacher,
Your sunglasses are 4.738 miles south of Corpus Christy, at coordinates 4345.5, 2235.7. They are buried under 3.2 inches of sediment which settles on the bottom at an average rate of .267 inches a year. At this rate, we expect your sunglasses to merge with the earth’s mantle somewhere around 124,552 A.D. By that time, your glasses will have been reduced to their component elements and will officially be no more.”
Getting that letter would be nice. I think a letter like that is all I need.
Okay, as long as I’m asking, could I get a letter officially confirming the existence of the God that I’ve given my whole life to following? Could that letter also tell me exactly where God is located? If "where" is an appropriate concept, that is.
Yeah, that should do it. The God letter and the location of my Wayfarers. I think that’s all I need.
I’m trying not to ask for too much.
The Preacher
7:56:59 AM 
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