Survival Skills 6-June 2010 10:23 PM
Posted by robodad in humor.3 comments
We westerners tend to live comfortable lives, isolated from the rigors of nature that our ancestors experienced. In this blog entry, I will share with you, dear reader, a recent brush I had with death at the hands of an untamed wilderness, and the lessons I learned.
During a recent nature expedition to Vancouver island, a travel buddy and I brought ourselves to the brink of disaster. And yet somehow, after a harrowing ordeal, we managed to scrabble and claw our way back to civilization, and eventually, sanity.
Preparation
Before entering the wilderness, preparation is very important. If you begin your journey properly hydrated, well fed and fattened, you won’t have to dig into your pack right away to stuff your fat face with the gummy bears you were supposed to be rationing.
Here are my travel buddies and myself, preparing ourselves for the journey ahead at an old tavern in Philladelphia on the way to Vancouver island:
I can’t stress the importance of this step enough. Really.
Travel Wisely
It is prudent to travel to the expedition site in a comfortable, yet efficient manner. After all, one wouldn’t want to waste all of one’s energy just getting there, right?
No need to swim across the channel! Take the ferry!
Here is a photo of me taking the ferry. Yes, it looks like there is choo choo steam coming out of the ship behind me, and it looks kind of like the ship is coming out of my head. You will just have to trust me when I say that none of that stuff is true.
And, for comfort, rent the biggest damn car on the lot. No, you won’t be able to park in most parking spaces, but who cares? Those leather seats and extra space for luggage could save your life one day
Enjoy Nature’s Beauty
Despite the dangers and life
threatening peril, Nature can be spectactularly beautiful. Just because there are grizzly bears behind you and poisonous spiders hiding in every place you might even think about putting your hand, there is no reason you should not enjoy the beauty of a flowing stream that has cut its way through granite over the course of the millenia, under the silent watch of the timeless trees, as shown in the photograph here:
Below, you can see my travelling companion Cale standing in front of an old growth tree. Actually, the tree was not very big. Cale is just very very small. And he is acting like a goof, as usual.
By contrast, here I am, quite sensibly trying to make tree babies:
Eventually, the tongue stuff started happening, and Cale had to stop the filming, lest we offend.
Be Alert. The World Needs More Lerts.
You should always be wary when in the wild. At times, it will appear that nature wants to kill you. In this case, for instance, we were walking along when an old tree, probably filled with a Stephen King-like evil spirit, fell onto me. Luckily, I was able to hold it up with one hand while Cale took a photo. Then, we switched.
Here, you can see that I am much stronger than Cale, as he is obviously exerting himself and, by contrast, I am barely noticing that I am holding up a tree. In fact, I think I was saying: “Oh, is there a tree there that I am holding up? I completely forgot, on account of my Herculean strength!” On the other hand, Cale looks as if he was saying “Errrrnnngh.” I probably thought something like: Don’t worry, Cale, if you die, I will take good care of your nice phone, with resistive touch screen and 5 MP camera.
Always Obey Posted Warnings
The forestry services have your best interests in mind. However, for the life of me, I cannot imagine why they would have put up this sign:
However, being good citizens, we obeyed, as everyone should (unless it looks like a lot of fun, or you don’t actually see any bears where the sign says there are definitely bears).
Obtaining Nourishment From The Land
What the Earth gives, we can pretty much take, no questions asked. Thirsty? Try some water from the murky puddle. Have to pee? I think I see a murky puddle up ahead.
Hungry? Here is a fern. I think I heard somewhere that people can eat ferns.
Research
At this point, I’d like to point out that a little research before you enter the wilderness couldn’t hurt. Especially if you would like to avoid putting poisonous ferns into your mouth.
Shelter
The importance of finding shelter cannot be over emphasized. While other animals have their pelts, shells, and exoskeletons to protect them, humans must cover themselves only with their wits. And sometimes clothes, where required by law. And shelter helps, too.
Here I am, happily warming myself in what is probably a bear den.
Swimming
Swimming can be a great way to relax and take your shirt off for the adoring female viewers. If you are Bear Freakin’ Grylls. For the rest of us, it is permissable (strongly suggested, even) that we keep our clothes on while we enjoy the timeless splendor of the water.
Also, diving!
Conclusion
In conclusion, I have pretty much decided that Nature is a bitch. Don’t ever go there.
Here you see me at the conclusion of my ordeal, barely alive.
Why isn’t Cale shown here? Sadly, he didn’t make it. He was attacked by wild tourists.
Rain 23-May 2010 10:24 AM
Posted by robodad in humor.add a comment
“Do you want to have sex?”
I know the tone, and I have heard it before. It is the tone and phrasing she uses when offering to bring something to a family gathering when she wants the answer to be “That’s OK. Thanks for offering, though.”
“No, that’s ok. Thanks for offering.” I smile.
I am going away on business in two days, and her offer was perfunctory and forced. Not that I would have minded a little intimacy, but the undertones in the question made our togetherness seem like an unwanted chore.
She seems a little surprised, but quickly recovers and turns back to resume her strict nightly regimen of channel surfing.
I am tired of her television, and feeling confined. I am ready for a walk. I go upstairs and out the front door in the dark. There, I meet my old childhood friend, the rain.
Down and up side streets we go. Wandering. Remembering.
Finally, the puddles are too inviting, and I take off my shoes and socks and carry them. Suddenly, I am 10 again, and the memory of running in the rain on a hot day is strong. The puddles are giant oceans and mighty rivers. I have no cares except the wet grass between my toes, and the occasional jagged pebble that hurts the bottom of my foot.
I pass a house, occluded by trees, lights off completely. It looks abandoned. I think of the lost Aztec cities, overgrown and forgotten except by the woodland creatures who live among the rotting ruins. At the time they were inhabited by men, how important the affairs within must have seemed to the residents.
I wonder if that is what my city will look like. I wonder how long will it take for these temperate forests to reclaim what has always been theirs. Two hundred years for the organic and rustable building materials, I guess. Maybe a thousand for the rest to be swamped with so much vegetation that the will scarcely be recognized.
I turn at my sidewalk and approach my house, sadly bidding farewell to my oldest friend.
“How was your walk?” comes the question from the remote-wielding warrior queen on the couch.
“Fine.” She doesn’t really want to know.
Letter to Google 14-November 2009 12:30 PM
Posted by robodad in humor.add a comment
Dear Google Wave team:
I live with a family of weasels in rural Pennsylvania. Please send weasel food. Also, weasel-sized clean underwear would be a bonus.
If it is not possible to send me these supplies directly, please get me a wave account so I can ask others for these things.
Email is so 2009.
Warmly yours,
Aaron
The Mystery 11-July 2009 9:02 PM
Posted by robodad in throwing up.1 comment so far
There I stood, looking down and staring… unable to comprehend.
Someone had left a big brown pile of doo doo in the middle of the floor. That someone had also tried to cover it up with a handful of diaper wipes.
I was aghast. Who could have done this? Why would someone do such a thing? It was a complete mystery.
A million things ran through my mind. I considered running out of the room and pretending I never saw it. I considered calling the police to help me discover the culprit.
But I paused for a moment, as it occurred to me that I might have enough information to solve the case.
I recalled seeing a certain young man run out of the room a few minutes earlier. This young man was just learning how to use the potty. As I recall, he was without pants as he exited the room. Hmmmm…. Suspicious? Yes. But was my case complete? No. No jury in the world would convict, I thought.
I approached the boy to confront him with the evidence. It was then that I noticed the poo on his heel. Confronted with the overwhelming evidence, he finally confessed.
Epilogue
An hour later, the carpet was steam cleaned, and as good as new. But what about me? Some crime victims take a long time to heal, and some never ever recover.
I don’t know how long it will be until can wipe the image from my mind.
Please. I don’t want to be alone right now.
War, child 28-April 2009 2:02 AM
Posted by robodad in humor.1 comment so far
The other day, I happened to need to explain what a torpedo was to my six year old.
After I explained that it was a weapon that blew up boats, she asked “But why would someone want to do that, daddy?”
Instantly, I felt terrible. How do you explain war, killing, and death to a little girl that plays with dolls?
I lurched past a brief, 20 word-or-less explanation of war, and settled into a more comfortable factual rhythm as we looked up some pictures or torpedoes on the internet.
But my mind was darkened by the realization: Here is the world I give you, child. Here is a world made difficult by nature, disease, and mortality. And oh yeah, there are people that kill for nationality, business, or even pleasure… Good luck.
Dream #2 14-April 2009 12:33 AM
Posted by robodad in dreams.2 comments
We lived in our old house, and somehow, one of our children nearly died in a flood, and we had to move out west. I mean, out west as in dry dusty streets, floating tumbleweeds. That kind of “out west”.
While living there, we lost a child. I am not sure what happened, but I think the child got lost, and we and the townspeople could not find the child.
Heartbroken, we moved back to our old house.
As we entered our old house, my wife and I fanned out to evaluate the condition of the place. I took the basement.
As I descended the steps, memory washed over me, and I clearly remembered the accident that happened before we left: a nearby river flooded, and one of our basement walls partially collapsed. Water entered the basement, washing my toddler out. I swam out and saved him.
It was that event which caused us to move west.
But as I stood there in the basement, I was surprised by the intensity of the memory. It was as if the mental image was forced on me from something or someone. It was as if someone was trying to tell me something.
Almost immediately, I knew: the river wanted my son. Not only that, but I knew it wanted me to be the one to bring him. It wanted my son, and it had to be me who threw him to the river.
I was anguished, but obviously, my dream self would never be persuaded to do such a horrible thing.
Sometime later, I looked outside, and we saw local municipal workers doing something on the banks of the river. What they were doing was not important, but I recall that one of the workers slipped on the riverbank in a small mudslide, and fell in and drowned. As the other workers scrambled to gain firm footing, I saw the ground around them popping with puffs of mud, as if bubbles were erupting from the mud. The men struggled to find firm earth and avoid the popping ground.
It was not until I saw the blood that I knew that the local townspeople were shooting at the workers. Somehow, the townspeople had become crazed.
Horrified, I knew it was the river. It could do terrible things, and it would not rest until I brought it my son. People would die… hundreds, maybe entire towns, unless I did something.
I awoke terrified. I awoke feeling guilty because my last thoughts before waking were
how many more people will die if I don’t do it?
On Making Your Life Sound More Interesting 21-March 2009 11:23 PM
Posted by robodad in misusing tags on purpose cause thats how i roll.5 comments
I have a problem. I have a blog which I use for blogging about life’s occurrences. The problem is that I find I rarely believe my life’s occurences to be blogworthy.
But I have a solution.
For simple nouns, add dramatic qualifiers, comparable to those used in blockbuster movies. Also, use pictures liberally.
For example:
The Homemade Pizza… OF DEATH
The Homemade Pizza ... OF DEATH!!!!
See how that works? Makes something blah seem exciting, right? I’ll bet you were scared a little. Maybe a lot if you are scared of peperoni.
Now, try this on for size:
Prepare to feel the terror of…
The Treehouse …
FROM ANOTHER WORLD!!!!
See?
Conspiracy to Kill 24-December 2008 11:15 PM
Posted by robodad in humor.1 comment so far
The last time we went away, we took her along with us. We had to.
She was old. She could not feed herself. We were going to be gone for a few days, and she could no longer live by herself. So, we took her and her life support equipment along with us, and took care of her. Staying at the in-laws house with our three kids, this was an inconvenience. But we didn’t want her to die… After all, who wants that kind of mess?
Since then, we have continued to take care of her. Over time, though, the kids stopped paying attention to her, and we hardly noticed she was alive, except when we remembered to throw food at her.
This time around, as we planned the minutia of our Christmas vacation at the in-laws, we both realized… we did not want to take her. We decided there, standing in the kitchen: we would leave Miss Ginger behind. If she died, we decided, perhaps it would be a blessing.
For us, anyway.
That is how we decided that Ginger the fish would be left behind, without food, for up to 48 hours. With a cat in the house.
God help us, and have mercy on our souls.
Dear Mr. Truck Nutz 8-July 2008 1:10 AM
Posted by robodad in humor.1 comment so far
Dear Mr. Truck Nutz,
Today, I had to sit behind you in traffic looking at your oversized nutz. I was sandwiched behind you for at least 20 minutes, with no escape, no place else to look.
They were large and red, and really really gross. One hung lower than the other, and they were slightly oblongish. But in the wrong direction. It was weird.
Please find some way to express yourself less grossly, Mr. Truck Nutz.
Yours Truly,
Me.
Portrait of an Evening 8-July 2008 1:04 AM
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The kids on the playground are running and playing. Molly has met some older kids, around 11, and they have condescended to let her play in their game of chase. I am thrilled because she is normally shy and reluctant to ask others to play, and I feel like crying when I see her so happy in the company of others.
Sammy thinks he is playing, too. He mimics their shouting and squealing , and toddles in the same general direction as the older kids. He seems not to notice that he is largely ignored.
Lizzie is playing with some kids on the merry-go-round.
Eventually, Lizzie finishes her play for whatever reason, and comes over to me on the park bench. She scoots her butt up onto the high seat next to me. She adjusts her blue and white Dorothy-in-Wizard-of-Oz dress which she has chosen to wear today.
She looks at me and smiles, then looks to the playground jungle gym where the other kids are playing.
After a moment, she looks back at me. “Daddy, doesn’t it get boring just watching kids play?”
I explain to her simply that I enjoy watching my kids having fun and playing.
She looks back at the playground and seems to think about this for a second. Then she concludes “So it would be really boring for you if there were no one here, right?”
I agree that yes, it would be boring.
Then, we play that game where she pushes my nose and my tongue sticks out, and I push her belly button and she makes a beeping noise. Shoudlers, cheecks, ears, knees; every body part has a resultant action or sound. This game devolves, as it always does, into me tickling her.
Then, she runs off to join her sister and the older kids in the game of chase.
The sun is setting, and a breeze finds its way to us through the trees and over the soccer field.
