In a similar vein—please don’t ask me to swim in a lake, pond, river, or other body of water where I can’t see the bottom, unless you are secreting large amounts of Xanax upon your person. Why, you ask? Oh, come on. Sea monsters? Dead people who rise up from the bottom with their pallid hungry hands to grasp your ankles? The wreckage of an ancient ship whose long-dead crew is all too eager to lure you down to a watery dinner in a wrecked stateroom? Thank you very much, but no.