Stomach ache

Do you ever get that paranoia hours after eating something that it's going to make you sick? It happens to me now and then. Maybe because I hate puking so much. Most people do, don't they? It's been years since I've puked, and I hope it stays that way.

Tonight I made a tuna melt for dinner. The book I'm reading, Into the Wild by John Krakauer, mentions that the last decent meal Chris McCandless ate before taking up residence in an abandoned bus in the Alaskan wilderness was a tuna melt given to him by the last person to see him alive. Naturally, I've had a craving.

So tonight I mixed tuna with low-fat mayo and some salsa, all of which were from newly-opened containers. I used fresh rye bread too. But the cheese was questionable. It's been around awhile. Pre-sliced, low-fat swiss from Trader Joe's. Looked fine, smelled fine, tasted fine. Tasted great, actually. Damn good tuna melt.

But I've been queasy since about an hour after I ate it. My guess is all's well — it's been at least three hours now and I haven't had any cold sweats or dry mouth. Still, I'm paranoid. Can't quite get myself to go to bed without knowing the coast is clear.

I just ate three Tums. Can't hurt. Sorry, this entry is kinda gross.

Defending Bear

All this flap about Bear Grylls. It's been reported that the host of Discovery Channel's "Man vs. Wild" show doesn't always rough it the way it appears on TV. He has, on occasion, slept in hotels rather than in the wild, eaten candy bars provided by the film crew rather than starve, and floated on rafts made with help from crew members rather than on his own.

Some say it's an outrage. I say it's entertainment!

This is TELEVISION, and Bear is the host of a show. It's not a serious documentary, it's an hour-long, weekly show meant to provide tips about surviving in the wild. Of course there's editing, scripting, help, dramatization and trickery. That's television! It's naive to think otherwise.

It's not as if anyone could question Bear's authenticity. He's not just TV host beefcake with a pretty smile, good camera presence and likable personality. This guy knows what he's doing out there. He summited Everest at age 23 (then a record), led the first team to circumnavigate the UK on personal watercraft, and broke a world record by flying a gas-powered paraglider over the Himalayas. Not to mention his time with the UK Special Forces Selection, serving as a soldier, trained in unarmed combat, desert and winter warfare, combat survival, medics, parachuting, signals, evasive driving, climbing and explosives. His time with them was cut short when he shattered his back in a parachuting accident. Needless to say, he's paid more than his dues.

So let's not pretend that this guy doesn't know how to do all the things he demonstrates on his show. The fact that he gets a little help for the purposes of good TV is simply no big deal.

If you've ever seen "Survivorman" you'll notice the difference immediately. Les Stroud's show, also on Discovery (currently airing in place of Man vs. Wild), borders on boring. Why? Because Stroud works so hard to be completely authentic! He gets strangely loopy when he's hot and dehydrated, he films himself sitting out the sun's rays in the shade (snore), and he doesn't try hard enough to truly explain everything he's doing on camera (like how a scorpion tastes, how he managed to cook an ostrich egg, or the way insect bites feel). Maybe his show is more authentic, but its also much less watchable. Take your pick.

If you've never seen it, catch an episode of "Man vs. Wild" sometime (provided Discovery doesn't cave under the pressure and cancel it). You'll quickly find that Bear is fun to watch no matter what might happen off-camera. Sit back, relax and be entertained, inspired, grossed out and delighted (and the beefcake ain't bad either).

Ode to the prequel

Wikipedia says: "A prequel is a work that portrays events which include the structure, conventions, and/or characters of a previously completed narrative, but occur at an earlier time." A prequel won't generally ruin the fun of the original work should you happen to experience it first. But resist the temptation to put the works in chronological order. It's so much more satisfying to get the back story after the characters have grabbed you in their prime.

Have you seen Wicked yet? The musical about the witches of Oz before Dorothy dropped in? See it. Unless you were in the vast minority of Americans who did NOT grow up with an annual dose of The Wizard of Oz movie (or you weren't, but disliked it for some inexplicable reason), see Wicked!

Wicked provides an alternate, sympathetic view of the Wicked Witch of the West (named Elphaba by Wicked novelist Gregory McGuire in homage to L. Frank Baum who wrote the original Oz books), complete with a trampy mother, hateful father, crippled sister, romantic inclinations and sense of humor. It also sheds light on Glinda, the Good Witch, whose perky popularity is equally lovable and nauseating.

But my favorite parts of the story came when details (some huge and some minute) surfaced about the Tin Man, the Cowardly Lion, the Scarecrow, the Wicked Witch of the East and the Wizard himself. Was all of it believable? Would Mr. Baum approve? Hard to say. Probably not entirely. But no matter.

Catching a glimpse into the history of Oz was fascinating!!! Almost as good as getting the back story on Mrs. Rochester (Bertha) in Jean Rhys' Wide Sargasso Sea, the prequel to my favorite book of all time, Jane Eyre.

The Breners

I grew up across the street from Art and Linda Brener. Theirs was the coolest house on the block as far as I was concerned. They had all this really great art that, as a kid, I didn't understand, but couldn't stop looking at. Every time I went to their house to play, I was always much more focused on the things on their walls and shelves. And the fact that some of it was actually signed by them, well, that just astounded me beyond comprehension.

You mean someone who lives here, in this little town where I live, is actually a real artist?! Impossible. No, possible!

Art (or Buzz as his wife called him) and Linda Brener (always Mr. and Mrs. Brener to me) encouraged me without words to become an artist. They inspired me without even trying. I remember everything about that house on Mather Road. The way the spherical spindles on their modern, metal-framed couch could screw off; the fake flower held by the knight statue at the foot of their stairs; the Jasper Johns painting in their living room; the jade and bonsai plants on the dining room window sill; the massive collection of family photos on top of their black upright piano; the way I felt when they bought one of my raku sculptures my senior year of college!

The Breners are special people. I hadn't seen them in years, and then the other night I was out to dinner with friends and there they were. Even without my glasses on, I spotted Mr. Brener from way across the room. I couldn't get up fast enough, and my legs were much too slow to take me there! They moved to NJ to be closer to their daughter and grand kids, and are now practically neighbors again after all these years.

The painting in the photo is by Linda Brener, and I have to thank my childhood friend Betsy for giving it to me. I treasure it. In fact, it hangs directly above my computer and I look at it every day. Good, good people, the Breners. I look forward to getting reacquainted after all these years.

Whitewater

My second adventure of the summer has officially come and gone today. Whitewater rafting in the Lehigh River Gorge. It was only about a class 3, and for the most part was pretty tame ... but there were definitely some thrilling moments on the water. My raftmates and I got stuck on a few rocks, and more than once we had a person overboard, but since no one got hurt, it just made the day that much more fun!

But the most important thing I learned all day is that whitewater rafting, on fairly calm rapids anyway, is much more about who can toss the most amount of water out of a bailing bucket onto another raft than it is about navigating the river. I spent as much time ducking so that my raftmates could douse the other rafts as I did paddling. It did little good, as I was drenched from the outset anyway... which was fine by me!

Nonetheless, my arms and shoulders got an intense workout. And the sun was brutal (note to self: wear a hat or bandanna next time), but thanks to the 30 SPF, I'm not nearly as burned as many of the others. My rear end feels like I've been on a horse all day, so that's a bit unpleasant. All small prices to pay for a gorgeous day on the water.

I took along a water-safe (disposable) camera, so as soon as the photos are processed, I'll post them on flickr.