I'm sure that's very reassuring to the folks that live in coastal Louisiana, Alabama, Mississippi and Florida. Tom, you really are a piece of work. You complain about the crushing imposition of the light bulb police on your life and cavalierly dismiss the huge impact of this catastrophe.

I have a friend in Pensacola, a skilled furniture repairman and woodworker. I had the privilege of staying with him and his wonderful family at their beautiful bayside home while I wrote and photographed a story on a sailboat he had restored, a San Francisco Pelican just like my first boat. It was one of the most idyllic and enjoyable weekends of my life.

I called him up a few days after the spill became known, right after it was obvious this was going to be a big one. He was distraught, on the verge of tears. His home and his life was threatened, not just the environment, but its very existence.

Although he did not earn his living on the water, a collapse of fishing and tourism would affect his clients and his business. He could lose everything, and he knew it. And all of his friends and family were in the same boat, if you'll forgive the cruel metaphor.

That beautiful little town by the water (think of Monterey with palm trees and white sandy beaches)and everything in it, the beauty, the lifestyle, his kids, his career, everything was threatened. All his years of hard work, mastering a trade and building up a business and clientele, protecting from several hurricanes a house he had built with his own hands, all now at risk due to decisions made thousands of miles away by people who don't even know he exists. And Pensacola, like most of the affected coast, does NOT have a stake in the oil field support infrastructure. Except for the Naval Air Station, it is strictly tourism and fishing.

Halfway through the call he had to excuse himself, he could no longer continue, he was so upset, so frustrated, so angry, and so afraid, that he could barely speak. I'm afraid to call him back.

I'm sure you've read the article I wrote about his boat. Find his picture there and stare into his face, look at the picture of his house. Join the human race.