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Guest Blog: There’s a Bear in There

My twelve year old daughter wrote the following for her school’s public speaking competition, after we were talking about the Bear Grylls in Newcastle hashtag on Twitter. I thought it was pretty funny, so would like to share it with you all. Apart  from removing names and the lovely all-caps and rainbow colours she had going on, all words are her own. I hope you enjoy it:

teddyI was watching a TV show called Man vs Wild the other night. If you haven’t seen it – you’re not living!

In Man vs Wild there’s this guy called Bear Grylls, right? He goes to some of the harshest places on earth, but he doesn’t take a plane like any normal person. He’s Bear Grylls! He has to jump out of a helicopter.  Then he puts himself in the position of a lost hiker or tourist and shows you how to survive. Like all tourists he only takes a few things with him –

  • a water bottle,
  • a pocket knife,
  • his clothes
  • … and a camera crew!

Some of the adventures Bear Grylls attempts include

  • Jumping off a waterfall in the amazon
  • chasing rhinos across the savannah
  • eating a sheep’s eye in Alaska
  • and jumping into quicksand to show you how to get out.

What can I say? This guy’s mental!

Anyway while I was watching Man vs Wild the other day I thought how would Bear Grylls cope being stranded in the wilds of my school?  Well for starters he’d jump out of a plane and parachute onto the library roof. He’d then abseil down the building and CRASH! He’s through the principal’s window. There’s glass everywhere but there’s no time to pick the pieces out from his skin because someone’s coming! Quick! It’s the principal! Bear Grylls drops to the ground. He knows what he must do. He commando crawls out of the principal’s office and past the EVIL OFFICE LADIES!

All right, he could get in easily enough – but how would he survive? If you have ever watched the show you would know that water is essential for survival. That should be easy enough in a school playground – there’s bubblers right? But Bear always prepares for the worst. He would probably pee into his Wiggles drink bottle in case he gets dehydrated and can’t make it to the bubblers. How disgusting is that?!

Next problem is what would he eat? Well he could raid the canteen but he would have to fight off the canteen lady first. And even though he is an SAS commando and has trained in the airforce I reckon she could take him on. Looks like he would have to raid the garbage bin for the last half-chewed chicken chippy. But wait a minute – that sounds a bit boring for Bear Grylls. He’d probably go down to the creek and catch one of those red belly black snakes for his lunch – YUM!

As night falls, the air gets colder, and Bear knows that he has to build a shelter – and fast! He usually finds tree branches, bamboo and palm leaves to make a cover for his bed. But everybody knows it’s an immediate yellow card if you start ripping down the trees!  He could get supplies from the work shed. Hey – he could even sleep in the shed!

Oh well – no one said he was smart.

After a hard night’s sleep out in the cold, Bear thinks he has primary school sussed. He has found food and a water source, but then – the lunch bell rings. It takes all Bear’s survival skills to avoid the herd of stampeding kindies on their way to the sandpit. There are kids everywhere – he has to get out! NOW!!

Finally Bear has an idea. He creeps into one of the classrooms and grabs a desk and a meter ruler. With the desk upside down and using the ruler as a paddle, he rafts down the creek then crawls across the scorching earth of the local soccer grounds to finally make it to civilisation – BI LO!

With all his skills and training, Bear Grylls has conquered some of the world’s most deadly terrains. But I reckon my school would be his toughest challenge yet!

Soft, fuzzy Underbelly

So yesterday the twitterverse and then the news websites and then the radio and TV news (because that’s the order it seems to happen these days) were all aflutter with the news that notorious gangland figure Carl Williams was killed in prison. I don’t think the news would have been much more than a blip on my radar were it not for the massive success of the Underbelly series.

I keep hearing people voicing the opinion that the show glorifies real life criminals. Or that they “don’t get it” by which statement (one of the most dismissive things you can say to a person, akin to a teenage “Whatever!” in my book) I am supposing they mean to say that they don’t enjoy the show and they are quite surprised that it is so popular.  I imagine a lot of people watch because it has become a “watercooler” show and to watch means a good conversation the next day. Or maybe they are fans of the true-crime genre. My husband is. He will watch or read anything based in Chicago in the 20s, New York in the 70s and wherever Chopper was in the 80s. He’s not a degenerate, I swear. He doesn’t think these guys are anything other than thugs at best, and cold hardened killers at worst. He just finds them intriguing.

I’ve watched a few episodes but I haven’t found it particularly riveting. The fashion and the hairstyles are fun with the 70s and 80s stuff, but I’ll stick with Life on Mars and Ashes to Ashes for those, thanks. I like the shots of the old Aussie banknotes too. It doesn’t seem all that long since we changed over to the new notes with the plastic and  the holograms, but whenever Underbelly flashes up a shot of an old twenty or fifty, I chortle with nostalgic delight. “Remember them?!”  Otherwise I tune out, or get my husband to sacrifice any watercooler cred he may have had by making him watch it online a couple of days late. I don’t care. I don’t have a watercooler in my home office – the only underbelly that gets any attention around here is this one:

cats bellies 001

Pacino - named by my husband, of course...

Do you watch Underbelly or watch/read any other true-crime books or series? What do you think the fascination is? And what is your watercooler show of choice?

Category: Deep Thinks  3 Comments  Tags:

The Tracks of My Tears

I understand some women enjoy watching tearjerkers like Grey’s Anatomy .  Apparently watching McDreamy and Whatsherface dance around their romance while saving and losing patients can lead to a very cathartic sob-fest. I don’t really get it. It’s not my thing. I tend to prefer comedies. Each to her own.

Gilly TommyMy daughter loves animals. Any animals – mammals, birds, reptiles, fish or insects – she’s not fussy. As a result we watch a lot of animal-related TV. I am well acquainted with David Attenborough, Dr Harry, Steve and Bindi Irwin and (my personal favourite) the Bondi Vet. (What?!)  It is not uncommon for me to be summoned urgently to the lounge room to look at the social habits of seahorses or the breeding cycle of dragonflies.

Last night was the series return of RSPCA Animal Rescue. We recorded it during dinner and then we girls tucked ourselves up on the lounge to watch. Of course, second story in, it hit us. A ginger cat. A ginger cat, lost and riddled with ticks. Paralysed in his back legs and losing his voice. Who belonged to a little girl who loved him and was missing him. Who may not make it through because of the extent of the poisoning. For the record, I lost it when we first laid eyes on the cat. Unfortunately before we could find out whether the cat survived, the recording stopped! That’s when my daughter lost it. The picture at left may explain our reaction somewhat.

So a big shout out of thanks to the random strangers on Twitter who answered my query as to the fate of the cat. It helped both of us get some sleep. And the sob-fest thing? Quite cathartic. (Oh, like you didn’t see that one coming!)
Do you like a good sob-fest? What TV shows set you off?

Noses Run In Our Family (HAR HAR!)

geneSpotting family resemblances in your kids is great – “He has your nose.” “She has your eyes.” “He has your giant head!” (This last was delivered accusingly at my husband the day after my son was born, although to be fair my own head has trouble fitting into ladies’ hat sizes.) Beyond the physical, genetics can also play a role in the development of our personality and even strange quirks. Nature – vs – nurture. You’ve all read the Peer Reviewed Studies, I’m sure.

Anyway speaking of strange quirks,  I have the adorable habit (my husband says “maddening tendency”) of playing Actor Spotto during movies.  Not with Big Name Actors like George Clooney or Meryl Streep but you know, the actors whose faces you recognise but you may not know their name. The sadly defunct website Fametracker.com called them “That Guys” as in “Hey! It’s That Guy!

To play Actor Spotto (my version thereof) you have to exclaim something like “Oooh that actor playing the waiter. What was he in?” when a “That Guy ” comes on the screen. My husband (the B-List actor savant) will then give me the name of a movie. “Nope.  Don’t remember that one. It was a movie with a dog and maybe a rocket. And I think it was set in Europe somewhere. And it was snowing.” I won’t rest until I have the title. Thank goodness for the IMDB. We used to pause the movie to head downstairs to the computer to clarify (“shut you up” – my husband) now as soon as I say “Ooooh” he hands me his iPhone.

I have a nemesis in this game (“cruel and unusual punishment”) –  an actor called Michael O’Keefe, who, as his IMDB profile shows, has appeared in many many movies and TV shows over the years. My problem with Mr O’Keefe is that when I first met my husband, he and his flatmate were fans of one of O’Keefe’s early works, The Whoopee Boys. One IMDB user review calls it “Rude, crude, and absolutely hilarious”. They got two out of three right. This not long after he was in Caddyshack. Can you picture him now? This is the Michael O’Keefe in my head.

Now Mr O’Keefe has since appeared in many very Un-Whoopee Boys-like films and TV shows like The West Wing, Law and Order and Michael Clayton.  Being that this is acting, he changes his appearance for each character and he has of course grown older. He must be a very accomplished actor, because I never recognise him. Ever. And each time he appears my husband will say “Hey, that’s Michael O’Keefe” and I will disagree and we will bet fifty bucks of actual real (“pretend, because I’ve never seen it”) money on it and I will always lose.

So back to genetics. The other day we took the kids to see Avatar.  We’re a little way into the movie and looking fairly smashing  in our 3D glasses when my daughter jabs me in the ribs. “I told you to go to the toilet BEFORE we came in!”

“No, Mum. That lady – what’s she from?”

Sigourney Weaver. Ghostbusters.

My husband just smiled.