Reality TV – take no prisoners, leave no survivors

“How high’s the water, mama?”


“Can’t dance, too wet to plow”

“Walkin’ along the Mission in the rain”

“A box of rain will ease the pain and love will see you through.”

“A Foggy Day in London Town”

“Oh, the wind and rain.”

“Pennies from heaven”





Rain songs on my mind for some reason. Might have something to do with the additional 0.6 inches of rain that has fallen in the last 14 hours. . The lower area of the yard is soggy; best traversed wearing water-proof boots. Yesterday, I dug out my LL Bean fleece lined boot pacs to escort the dog around the yard. Gloria wore her new water-proof boots outdoors yesterday and today. She’s decided to keep them. Another box can go out the door and into the trash can.
The creek is at bank full in our back yard. The pools and races will be different when the water subsides. Compare today’s images to yesterday’s.

Looking downstream/north at lower end of property 16 Oct 09
 
 
 

 
Looking downstream/north at lower end of property 17 Oct 09. The water level is not too much higher at this point but the creek is noticeable broader and faster.
 
 

Normally mid-calf-deep riffles now well over knee-deep. It would be dangerous to try to wade across the creek today. Left image 16 Oct 09, right image 17 Oct 09.

Same stream stretch, slightly different vantage point, taken by Gloria 1100 today.

Rain songs and two Wild Asparagus albums playing as I write this.



This morning, in response to predicted lows in the low thirties to high twenties, Gloria brought in several plants that she will nurse through the winter indoors. I checked the lamps we will use for the winter to keep the filters from freezing. We’ll probably use a dozen hundred Watt bulbs over the winter in that small enclosure. I left one lamp burning in case the temp drops lower than predicted tonight. Tomorrow, I’ll replace any bulbs that are burned out and leave some rat/mouse poison in the enclosure. I loaded a 40 pound bag of water softener pellets into the well filtration system and am now feeling my neck and shoulder complain at being used to lift in excess of the medical restriction of 5 pounds placed on me by my neurosurgeon after my third spinal surgery. I’ll be lucky to get my t-shirt over my head tonight without help.

This is one of the real contretemps included in being found to be medically disabled. We live on fixed income, we live remotely compared to most Americans. There are tasks and chores that disabled people face every day that may make us appear, to some, to be less injured or ill than we actually are. We can go grocery shopping and get someone to load the groceries in the car for us. But most of us have no one to unload them, carry them indoors, up stairs, and put them away for us. So we do it because we must. Buying and storing a gallon of orange juice exceeds my five pound limit. So does the economical size container of laundry soap. Taking out bags of trash can pass the limit. We heat, partially, with wood. Stacking, carrying, and when unavoidable, cutting, splitting, otherwise manipulating wood causes me to exceed the limits of my restriction. So does carrying out a week’s worth of newspapers, or dragging a wheeled trash can to the curb. These are things those of us with the blue parking tag learn to deal with.

I feel sorry for myself sometimes. Such chores were once of no real concern. But for thousands of American citizens who must continue to live after injury or illness, the day-to-day activities of living can ruin your day. The folks who look at us as we load a bag of groceries or other items into a car and say,” Don’t look handicapped!” are right, to a point. I don’t, many of us don’t. But the bystanders don’t see us reaching for the pain meds, which we live on of necessity, when we are done putting things away, stacking wood, carrying out trash. And I always keep in mind that my injuries, which are real and cannot be treated any further to provide relief from pain or better mobility/grasp/strength, are far, far, less serious than those of many others. When I stop to open a door for someone having difficulty walking, I’m not just being polite. I’m also demonstrating my gratitude at not being less able than I am.

Gloria and I go dancing now, about every other week. She moves gracefully and happily while dancing. I move, at least. But it takes us nearly all the next two weeks to recover from a night’s dancing. We accept the penalty for dancing, for carrying bags of salt and pouring them from shoulder high, for moving a jug of OJ, because we have to in order to keep living and enjoying the life we have. It’s worth the penalties, whether anyone else understands that we pay them or not.

Now, as promised, reality TV:

Cheap programming compared to actually writing a script, hiring actors and crew, and producing something with intellectually stimulating content; or even sub-mediocre sit-coms. Unfortunately, the major networks and the cable networks have all glommed onto the practice as if they were creating new and great works of literature.

I will confess to watching CBS’s Survivor and The Amazing Race.
I don’t watch any other reality shows. I find the supposed talent contests to be nothing but beauty contests in nature, choosing mediocre performers to compete by imitating other mediocre performers or to perform scripted songs or dances. The popularity contest that results is little more than an extension of high school popularity/beauty elections that are predetermined at the time of candidate selection. I will admit that most of the music chosen for the “amateurs” to perform is either not to my liking or so badly mangled by its new treatment as to induce pain. Unlike many others, I don’t find the audition excerpts amusing. I don’t understand someone desiring so badly to be on television as to allow their selves to be shown displaying humiliating lack of talent or of any self awareness of how little talent they have.
The sooner the talent contests vanish from the television lineup, the better.

Back to The Amazing Race:
The thing that makes this program of passing interest to me is the off chance it provides to see some place or something I might find interesting. There are lots of places I would like to travel to see. This program, at least, does provide some brief view of such places and things in each segment. On the other hand, it screams of how poorly informed many of the contestants are regarding other cultures and nations. I’m always reminded of “The Ugly American.” This program also shows how badly prepared some contestants are to travel or live together. I’ve watched contestants come unglued and hit each other; I’ve heard them criticize citizens of other nations for not speaking English. And as the show goes through new “seasons” I’m always amazed at how little preparation some teams undertake by practicing things that trip up contestants in every preceding season.

And back to “Survivor”:
The lifeboat experiment is an interesting concept in social dynamics. We can all learn a bit about ourselves by playing the game. The first season, when the contestants looked rather like most people, neither glamorous nor ugly. By the second season, the contestant makeup had changed markedly. The number of “beautiful” people in the mix had increased. This pattern had repeated since then, in every season. It’s amusing to watch people fail to learn from the previous seasons of the show. The contestants would, for the most part, not be able to survive in any sort of event that caused them to be lost or marooned. They are selected for physical appearance and little else that I can determine.

Considering failure to prepare, it would take little time or money for anyone hoping to be a contestant to learn to start a fire using the magnesium fire-starter the show provides, using glasses as burning lenses, but apparently no one does. It would require little thought for the female contestants to realize that they may be set down at any time once they are selected and to not present their selves in high heels and office or party attire. Likewise, males showing up in suits and ties serves little purpose but to demonstrate they can afford to throw away such clothing.

The group dynamics are contra-survival in almost all cases. I’ve seen a Navy Aviator, trained in survival skills ejected by his group immediately. I’ve noticed nurses ejected rather than preserved as members when a nurse would be a strong asset to the group. Actual survival skills seem to be of no real interest early in the game and are ranked inferior to physical strength and appearance by the competitors in nearly every case. Such people seem to be allowed to broadcast all manner of unsubstantiated history and to gravitate into leadership roles if they meet the “beautiful” test.

Groups will almost universally fail to find a safe place to construct shelters. They all seem to ignore the number of times in previous seasons that camps have been destroyed by wave action or by rainfall. They fail to understand that building above ground sleeping platforms with overhead cover is an essential first task, along with securing firewood, safe water, and food. The greater the number of “beautiful” people in a group, the less likely they are to do this. Such “beautiful” groups will also eject any older or plain appearing contestants early in the game despite the benefits and knowledge those players may bring.

When women initially comprise one group they seem to discuss everything to death but accomplish nothing in terms of setting up shelter, fire, food, & water. If one woman tries to organize these things, she will invariably be ejected for her pains. Males will group together to eject females based upon appearance and regardless of ability. Coincidentally, and amusingly a group of women with a high percentage of lesbians did the same to the men in the group. However, once the men were ejected, they fell back into the discuss and starve pattern mentioned above.

Amusing aspects of the show exist. . I believe that women contestants are afforded some cosmetic devices such as razors – none of them seem to have underarm or pubic hair Another is found the tendency to select contestants who have breast implants. Contestants on the program will lose weight while filming the show. It would seem to me that women contestants would watch older seasons before applying. The contestants who have breast implants seem to have universally subscribed to the too big is best school of cosmetic surgical enhancement. As the otherwise skinny women become increasingly emaciated their implants become more and more unreal looking. The 1950’s Cadillac/missile nose cone look is not gone, just relegated to women too young to have ever seen it. Men should think long and hard before allowing their selves to be dropped off wearing only their underpants. It’s hard to keep up appearances on reality television. Insecurities become readily apparent and there seems to be some regression toward cave dweller and stone age behaviors.

Dinner tonight will be beef Stroganoff with egg noodles.

The temperature is now 42.6 F

There is a freeze warning in effect for South East Greene and Unicoi counties tonight. We are two miles down valley/down slope from Unicoi County and its intersection with S.E, Greene County. Thus the light in the well filter enclosure.

The link below will take you to a Weather Underground interactive map. I upload weather data to this service and our location on the Washington/Greene county lines can be accurately viewed on this map.

http://www.wunderground.com/wundermap/?lat=36.14899826&lon=-82.60844421&zoom=10

Our personal weather station can be pulled up by searching for KTNCHUCK4 in the drop down weather station option at the top. We will be denoted on the right side of the map as “Cassi Creek.”
Wild turkeys in the field across the road this morning.
Have fun.

After the Ball Is Over

Yesterday, it rained. The day before yesterday it rained. The day before, the day before…

Today, it has rained a total amount of 0.54 inches since Midnight.
Our creek is beginning to race and to rise

Looking upstream west to east                                                    Looking north, behind the house toward bend to west.               

Looking north, downstream toward our property line. Image on right is blow up of image on left.
All images from 1045 today.

We left for Asheville about 1615 yesterday. The large concentration of rain had shifted eastward during the early afternoon. We drove over the passes with the wipers on intermittent and the defroster blowing cold air into the passenger cabin. As I mentioned, one of the few faults I’ve noted with the Pathfinder. The trip went smoothly. The mountain sides are spectacular in any light but sunlight would have made them much more so. At several points we were above the cloud deck and glad for tail lights on other vehicles. But still, not a bad drive. We managed to find a parking garage near our target restaurant. We were a few minutes early but decided to go ahead and begin a leisurely dinner. Our hope for guest, David Gans, was unfortunately delayed and didn’t get to Asheville in time to do anything but sound check before performing.


The restaurant “Wasabi” http://www.ichibanwasabi.com/pdf/wasabi_go_menu.pdf was nearly empty when we walked in just before 1800. We joked about not needing a reservation after all; but were assured we had done the right thing making one. We were quickly seated and began the always fun process of choosing sushi and sashimi. We settled on a house special roll, “main street roll,” that was beautifully presented. We ate it slowly, commenting on how great it tasted and how well presented it was. Neither of us recalled that we were carrying cell phones with cameras. By the time we added some sashimi – tuna & yellow tail, a spicy tuna hand roll, and a piece of sushi with uni for each of us, dinner was well underway. We kept a lookout for David but by this time didn’t really expect to see him walk in.


We knew we had a long night ahead of us and were still hungry. The restaurant was filling up rapidly by 1830. We ordered dinner, shrimp and vegetable tempura for me and nabe yake soba for Gloria. In a classic loss of situational awareness, when the waitress asked if I wanted soup or salad, I asked, “What’s the soup?” Quickly realized that there was no option but it was too late to say anything but “Oh, yeah!”

Dinner was delicious. We did realize we could photograph it and even on a cell phone camera image it is obviously well presented.

 

We brought home about half of each dinner. We’ll dine on leftovers quite happily tonight.


From the restaurant to the dance location, our trusty Garmin GPS took us through Asheville. Both of us read maps quite easily and quite well; but I must admit that a GPS can really cut confusion in unfamiliar cities and towns. We arrived in time to find parking within a short walk, paid our admission and Gloria left to change into her new skirt and the shirt she had chosen for the evening. We managed to find a place to sit along the wall beside the band. Changed shoes, stored our gear, and waited for the beginner session to end and the dance, proper, to begin. Gloria took the opportunity to see if her friends in the band, “Wild Asparagus,” would recognize her. It pleased her no end when they did. She started the dance with a huge smile on her face.

She also ran into an old friend from her DC dancing days, Bruce Henderson, which made it even more fun for her. She has always had fun introducing me to old friends. With rare exception, I’ve always enjoyed meeting her old friends.


To save her knee from too much damage she’s only dancing every other dance. It’s hard for her to sit out a dance but she did well last night. My knees are not much better than hers so I took advantage of the off dances to pay close attention to the band

“Wild Asparagus” http://www.wildasparagus.com/about.html is a great band for Contra dancing. They bring tremendous energy to the dance, are master musicians, and routinely improvise while playing traditional Celtic and other Contra dance music. A band that plays only a predetermined set list in exactly the same manner each night – akin to playing an album of tunes for dancers to dance to – will suffice to fuel a dance. The ability to improvise and to bring other musical elements to the performance can supercharge a dance, move it from a common to a seemingly living event. Some of it depends on the dancers. They provide feedback to the band. But the band can ignore that feedback or use it as a catalyst. That’s what I saw happen last night. I’d never heard “Wild Asparagus” play before, had only Gloria’s opinion of their caliber and merit. After the first dance, I wanted more. I’ve written of my inability as a dancer. So, for me, any good band would suffice to try to dance to. As a musician, I was treated to a superior performance by a band of immense talent and capability. Even I felt as if I might be a bit closer to being able to dance.


Of course, that was the music talking to me. I’m still the same middle-aged male who can only call himself a dancer if the phrase is never uttered out loud or written, as herein, for any and all to point and laugh. But sometimes the music is worth the ridicule. Sometimes it can make you loosen up enough to not really care how little grace of movement one possesses. We’ve all seen the tripped out guy in tie-dye and dreadlocks on the rail at a Grateful Dead concert. He’s hearing something no one else can hear, dancing to something Garcia’s playing “just for him,” in a spasmodic epitome of “white boy dancing.” Well, that’s never been me and it still isn’t. But I’m learning, just a bit, perhaps, that I can risk looking a little bit like that. And it helps that in 16, or 32 measures, I’ll be shoved or handed off to another neighbor, who along with my partner for the dance, will try to coach me into some semblance of a dancer for the minute of two in which they are stuck with me.

We left for home when the dance ended at 2300. When we left the venue there was a fine mist in the air, intermittent wipers were too frequent and noisy to leave on. It was hand control time until we hit the highway. Then the level of misty increased to really annoying. There was the perpetual streak directly in the field of vision that no wiper blade ever removes, that no window cleaner can eliminate. I spent the entire trip home to the intersection of TN 81 and I-26 changing the frequency on the intermittent wiper controller. Traffic was nearly non-existent once we left Asheville until we turned on to TN 81 at Erwin. The Nolichucky gorge is narrow, winding, rock on one side, river on the other, no guard rails, no shoulder, and had more traffic, all oncoming, than I expected. 12 miles from home it began to actually rain. We pulled into the drive at 0100.

The dog was happy to be let out. We were happy to be out of the car. We drained and emptied the dog, had a bite to eat, and watched enough television to de-wire. Off to bed at 0200 and the sleep of the just, righteous, and exhausted.
Woke up to rain, decided I’d gotten sufficient exercise last night, and have enjoyed a very quiet day to this point.

Tomorrow: reality television – no survivors.