As a child, it can be an extremely traumatizing experience to watch your parent getting injured.
One time when I was ten, my dad rode his bike over to my friend’s house to pick me up for dinner. He stuck me on the handlebars and off we went. About a half block away, a neighbor drove by and waved. Trying to be a good kid, I waved back, but the action required a counterbalance move to ensure I didn’t fall off.
Unfortunately, that move was me sticking my foot directly into the spokes of the front wheel.
The bike flipped head-over-heels and my dad landed half on his right arm, half on his face. My dad’s ample blood, scrapes, scratches and gravel-embedded road rash were minor compared to the arm broken in multiple places...and even that was secondary to the fact that when he landed on his face, the impact of his glasses literally gouged a chunk out of his nose in between his eyes.
(On the positive side, his glasses have never slipped down his nose since…)
I felt horrible, but perhaps not as bad as my friend Bill felt about tainting my mom a couple years later… (Don’t worry, this isn’t a sordid “May-December” romance story gone bad…nor is it a story about taints…)
12 years old, Little League baseball game…all the parents sitting in the stands watching and cheering. Bill hit a foul ball high over the dugout and slowing arcing toward the crowd. Everyone quickly stood up and scatted like Birthers at a pro-brain convention.
Unfortunately, my mom hadn’t picked up the trajectory of the ball when it was hit and went into the tried and true “cocoon of incorrectly assumed safety”, attempting to shield herself from the ball.
“Crack!” We could hear it out on the field. My poor, broken handed, hospital-bound, fear forevermore-ingrained mom…
No, really - she was truly traumatized after that. In fact, about four months later, just after the cast came off, we were at an Oakland A’s game, great seats, about two rows behind the A’s dugout. My dad had just loaded us up with hot dogs, popcorn, sodas…the works.
First inning: Carney Lansford hits a high foul ball… My mom, hyper-sensitive to balls by this point (..my poor dad…), immediately jumps up out of her seat screaming,
“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”
…and in the process of doing so, throws her arms up and out, crazy with fear.
Of course, the giant tub of popcorn and 64 oz. vat of Coke went flying as well…directly onto the head of the guy sitting directly behind her.
And then the ball landed…forty rows behind us. In the upper deck.
“It’s Ok,” the poor guy managed to say through a thick coating of wet, melting popcorn and fizzy, runny corn syrup.
My mom was beyond embarrassed. (My dad, on the other hand, was probably hoping she’d learned a valuable lesson about all balls not necessarily being dangerous…)
So why have I been discussing balls, taints and statutory rape? What, isn’t it obvious?
Irrational, overly sensitive fear is the deathwish of a Survivor contestant. Sure, you need to be realistic and aware, but everybody is a target; if you can’t remain calm and focused, you’re gone.
I recently read Aron Ralston’s great book, “Between a Rock and a Hard Place” (renamed “127 Hours” once the movie came out with James Franco). Highly recommend it – the guy is an absolute stud, and it’s one of the most inspirational stories I’ve ever read (*spoiler* - he cuts off his own arm!).
Of course everyone knows the story, but to hear it in his own words, minute by minute throughout the ordeal is incredible. By the time you get to the moment of truth, any doubts you had wondering if you could have done it yourself if you had been in the same situation are wiped away. In my mind I was shouting, “YES! YES! CUT THE DAMN THING OFF!”
But an interesting detail about his +/-90 minute self-amputation was that the pain was relatively bearable as he broke his bones and slowly sawed through the skin, muscles and sinew. The real roadblock? The nerves. The pain was beyond belief – but he powered through it with his 2” dull blade.
Survivor is all about sawing through your nerves with a dull blade. And there’s only one person remaining who has the balls/taint to do it: Rob. Any other winner this season will be a joke. He clearly wants it more than anyone, and he’s the only one who will do whatever it takes to be the sole survivor. Cut his #1 friend? See ya Grant. Consider cutting his #1 promise? Sorry Natalie, it’s just a game.
Meanwhile, this whole “Redemption Island” thing? Colossal lameness. If you’re voted off, you need to go home, period. If any of these people actually gets back in the game and makes it to the final tribal council, there is no way they deserve even a single goddamned vote. They lost. Anyone who votes for them simply doesn't understand the concept of this show.
And godboy Matt? Puh-lease. I’m glad he’s got God’s batphone number to help him overcome his impending disappointment, because anyone who gets booted TWICE deserves either our full scorn, balls randomly hitting them from different directions (something Ashley may actually like…), or the taint-side of the jury’s disdain. In Matt’s case I’m hoping for all three.
Was Rob wrong to boot Grant over Natalie? Look, he’s rolling the dice. There’s no clear right or wrong yet, but he showed he’s willing to cut through his nerves. Grant is probably a bigger threat in a final tribal (having won a couple immunities), but Natalie may be a bigger threat getting numbers together to boot Rob. On the flipside, Natalie already showed she was more aligned with Rob than with Ashley, so who knows? Maybe Rob chose right.
All I know is that come Sunday’s finale, Rob’s dull blade will be poised and ready for surgery.
Watch out for flying balls.
One time when I was ten, my dad rode his bike over to my friend’s house to pick me up for dinner. He stuck me on the handlebars and off we went. About a half block away, a neighbor drove by and waved. Trying to be a good kid, I waved back, but the action required a counterbalance move to ensure I didn’t fall off.
Unfortunately, that move was me sticking my foot directly into the spokes of the front wheel.
The bike flipped head-over-heels and my dad landed half on his right arm, half on his face. My dad’s ample blood, scrapes, scratches and gravel-embedded road rash were minor compared to the arm broken in multiple places...and even that was secondary to the fact that when he landed on his face, the impact of his glasses literally gouged a chunk out of his nose in between his eyes.
(On the positive side, his glasses have never slipped down his nose since…)
I felt horrible, but perhaps not as bad as my friend Bill felt about tainting my mom a couple years later… (Don’t worry, this isn’t a sordid “May-December” romance story gone bad…nor is it a story about taints…)
12 years old, Little League baseball game…all the parents sitting in the stands watching and cheering. Bill hit a foul ball high over the dugout and slowing arcing toward the crowd. Everyone quickly stood up and scatted like Birthers at a pro-brain convention.
Unfortunately, my mom hadn’t picked up the trajectory of the ball when it was hit and went into the tried and true “cocoon of incorrectly assumed safety”, attempting to shield herself from the ball.
“Crack!” We could hear it out on the field. My poor, broken handed, hospital-bound, fear forevermore-ingrained mom…
No, really - she was truly traumatized after that. In fact, about four months later, just after the cast came off, we were at an Oakland A’s game, great seats, about two rows behind the A’s dugout. My dad had just loaded us up with hot dogs, popcorn, sodas…the works.
First inning: Carney Lansford hits a high foul ball… My mom, hyper-sensitive to balls by this point (..my poor dad…), immediately jumps up out of her seat screaming,
“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”
…and in the process of doing so, throws her arms up and out, crazy with fear.
Of course, the giant tub of popcorn and 64 oz. vat of Coke went flying as well…directly onto the head of the guy sitting directly behind her.
And then the ball landed…forty rows behind us. In the upper deck.
“It’s Ok,” the poor guy managed to say through a thick coating of wet, melting popcorn and fizzy, runny corn syrup.
My mom was beyond embarrassed. (My dad, on the other hand, was probably hoping she’d learned a valuable lesson about all balls not necessarily being dangerous…)
So why have I been discussing balls, taints and statutory rape? What, isn’t it obvious?
Irrational, overly sensitive fear is the deathwish of a Survivor contestant. Sure, you need to be realistic and aware, but everybody is a target; if you can’t remain calm and focused, you’re gone.
I recently read Aron Ralston’s great book, “Between a Rock and a Hard Place” (renamed “127 Hours” once the movie came out with James Franco). Highly recommend it – the guy is an absolute stud, and it’s one of the most inspirational stories I’ve ever read (*spoiler* - he cuts off his own arm!).
Of course everyone knows the story, but to hear it in his own words, minute by minute throughout the ordeal is incredible. By the time you get to the moment of truth, any doubts you had wondering if you could have done it yourself if you had been in the same situation are wiped away. In my mind I was shouting, “YES! YES! CUT THE DAMN THING OFF!”
But an interesting detail about his +/-90 minute self-amputation was that the pain was relatively bearable as he broke his bones and slowly sawed through the skin, muscles and sinew. The real roadblock? The nerves. The pain was beyond belief – but he powered through it with his 2” dull blade.
Survivor is all about sawing through your nerves with a dull blade. And there’s only one person remaining who has the balls/taint to do it: Rob. Any other winner this season will be a joke. He clearly wants it more than anyone, and he’s the only one who will do whatever it takes to be the sole survivor. Cut his #1 friend? See ya Grant. Consider cutting his #1 promise? Sorry Natalie, it’s just a game.
Meanwhile, this whole “Redemption Island” thing? Colossal lameness. If you’re voted off, you need to go home, period. If any of these people actually gets back in the game and makes it to the final tribal council, there is no way they deserve even a single goddamned vote. They lost. Anyone who votes for them simply doesn't understand the concept of this show.
And godboy Matt? Puh-lease. I’m glad he’s got God’s batphone number to help him overcome his impending disappointment, because anyone who gets booted TWICE deserves either our full scorn, balls randomly hitting them from different directions (something Ashley may actually like…), or the taint-side of the jury’s disdain. In Matt’s case I’m hoping for all three.
Was Rob wrong to boot Grant over Natalie? Look, he’s rolling the dice. There’s no clear right or wrong yet, but he showed he’s willing to cut through his nerves. Grant is probably a bigger threat in a final tribal (having won a couple immunities), but Natalie may be a bigger threat getting numbers together to boot Rob. On the flipside, Natalie already showed she was more aligned with Rob than with Ashley, so who knows? Maybe Rob chose right.
All I know is that come Sunday’s finale, Rob’s dull blade will be poised and ready for surgery.
Watch out for flying balls.
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