It is well known fact that I am a local legend of sorts when it comes to “roughing” it. The laws of nature that would apply to a normal person do not apply to me. Think of people like Tarzan or Bigfoot or even Gilligan. They all managed to survive in the middle of a natural surrounding living off the land and the co-habitating with the creatures of their surroundings…miles and miles away from civilization as we know it. Hell, Gilligan’s gang learned to make a basketball out of a coconut for crying out loud. Nature-type folks are straight-up survivors.
I, however, am at the opposite end of that spectrum.
I’m lucky if I don’t choke on granola. I can’t clean a fish (not that I’d want to…and how can they be dirty living in water all the time?), I can’t start a fire without a gallon of gasoline and a blow torch. If anyone in my camp were to fall ill or get attacked by a racoon the only thing I could do would be to cheer them on and bury their corpse when they die. I love air conditioning. I love my digital cable. I love having a roof! ALL HAIL THE MIGHTY MICROWAVE!!!
I know that I suck… I came to terms with that a long time ago at my cousin’s church camp. Long story there but it ends up with me wondering lost through the woods in the middle of the night singing the theme to Happy Days at the top of my lungs.
So with this informative knowledge resting in my brain at some spot between my love for pudding and my extensive knowledge of matchbox cars, WHY would I even consider camping out with my kids? Who was I kidding? I had as much business sleeping in a forrest as Motley Crue has at Sunday Bible School.
Yet there I was….
My daughter’s birthday party had long since wound down. All of us were spread out, some on the dock and some on the banks, watching the hillbilly fireworks display. A large majority of the “neighbors” in the area who own their own little river shacks were relatively friendly, specially under the influence of holiday booze. And of course, in honest American fashion, they spend thousands of dollars on fireworks. Their cars may not have tires on them and their houses may be falling over, but god dammit, come Fourth of July, they’re gonna blow something up. When sober, I find myself questioning the logic behind shooting off professional-grade fireworks in a forest full of leaves and twigs and dried out old trees. But after a few beers I’m all about explosions.
After the fireworks ended, it was my task to get the girls settled into their tent. Getting my kids to sleep is a feat WITHOUT the sugar and caffeine that goes along with picnic food. But I managed to toss them in the tent and zipper it shut before the little junkies could scurry out between my legs.
Sue and I parked our tired asses in a couple lawn chairs on the bank by the river and watched the moonlight flicker off the water’s black glass surface. We relaxed, waiting for the giggles and chitter-chatter from within the girls tent to die down.
At some point, Sue decided to retire to our little tent and I was left standing guard over the two tents like an unarmed sentry. I sat there watching the night and replaying the days events and listening to the sounds of the forest. The chirp of a bird. The chatter of crickets. The sploink of a fish jumping out on the river. The scream of a small animal being devoured in the distance. The crunch of footsteps off in the woods *insert wide eyes*, the growl of a giant saber-toothed mountain buffalo from behind a row of whateverthefucktheyare trees.
Suddenly the beautiful song of nature was sounding more and more like the Blair Witch Soundtrack. As I sat on the bank, frozen to my lawn chair, on the verge of a little 4th of July pants explosion of my own, I suddenly came back to the realization I made many years ago at Camp Swatara with the little bible thumpers.
Nature wanted to kill me.
Its as if all God’s creatures, large and small, sat in their forest hideaways doing their thing and pretending to be normal squirrels and salamanders and spiders and saber toothed mountain buffalo. Go on about your business… nothing to see here. Until all the hairless apes fell asleep. Then they whipped out their cell phones and blackberrys and paged the single conspiratory message to each other:
Operation Eat Wit is a go.
Well I had news for these fucking furry bastards. I may not know how to skin a ground hog and make it into a hat. I may not be able to make a stew out of tree bark and mushrooms. But I’ll tell you one thing… after owning 3 dogs, 4 cats, and a number of other four-legged freaks I’ve learned something. I can kick the hell out of any animal… and you know what?
I like doin’ it!
So with my chest puffed and my confidence in kicking ability boosting my ego I bent down to tighten the laces on my…..
SANDALS??
Oh for the love of Jeebus! I can’t kick anything much bigger than a cat or a crippled beaver with my bare feet. I’m not Jackie Chan for Christ sake. If anything larger than a french wombat comes tearing out of the forest my only defense would be to point to the tents and yell “EAT THEM FIRST!!!”
More To Come!!
Never thought I’d run into someone more of a nature wuss than I.
I live in a newer development in an area that’s gradually being gentrified. Shacks on large plots with rusted out cars in the front yard were snapped up by developers who would subdivide the plot into 4-6 smaller plots and build nice new homes.
Still, on summer nights, if you listen closely, you can hear the trailer park a ways away having their own version of the Jerry Springer show. And on the Fourth, those trailer folk go all out on the fireworks. We homeowners with responsibilities, budgets, and mortgages pooled our money and sent a delegation out to “Boom City” at a nearby reservation to come back with a load that could finally challenge the trailer park.
Either those trailer trash can drive a harder bargain than we can, or they pooled their welfare checks and meth lab dividends and came up with more than we were willing to spend. While we had a good time blowing stuff up, we were outboomed yet again.
OMG!!! I am laughing my ass off!! I can just picture you kicking the shit out of a crippled beaver!!! This is too funny!!! Hope it was fun anyway!!