The ocean failed to get me a second time, but I still love the ocean and go there as much as I can. Just that now I keep a keen eye out for those odd wave patterns or the strange discoloration of the water. I also keep an ear out for the voice that whispers just above the mist, "Welcome back -- again."
If instead, we treated obesity more like drowning, we would tell the truth about food. We would not market multicolored marshmallows to children as part of a complete breakfast. We would not willfully mislead about the perilous currents in the modern food supply. We would not look on passively as an entire population of non-swimmers started wading in over their heads.
The story of a private equity firm, a missing pool fence, and the death of a two-year-old child raises troubling questions about how, as a nation, we define security in housing and why, in the midst of what's regularly termed a "recovery," many neighborhoods may actually be growing increasingly vulnerable.