Now any epic journey has to begin somewhere, right? Mine begins like so:
After an insane couple of weeks trying to get out of Denver, saying goodbye to Mom and Dave at the airport and boarding the plane, it was like a gigantic pressure valve on the top of my head suddenly opened.
All of the emotion, stress and anxiety of an insane summer and the build up to leaving, getting ready to leave the country for 4 months, leaving my kitties again (who were all sick) and then heading to Delhi to try to hold the basket I’ve thrown all my eggs into (and its good deal of eggs), finally got to me and when I took my seat (middle seat, damn), I felt like my entire body had been put into a blender.
So, flight takes off and I am pleased to discover that the in-flight movie does not star Keanu Reeves or any of the Baldwin brothers but is, in fact, a documentary called “Arctic Tale” in which a group of filmmakers traveled north and followed animals there for 4 years to witness and document the effect of climate change and global warming.
The story begins with the birth of two baby polar bears and a baby walrus and follows them through their lives and exploits. The polar bears are brother and sister, raised by their mom and the walrus is a baby girl who is raised by her mother and “auntie”. You can imagine the levity in my heart, being a rabid animal lover, watching, what I thought would be baby animals playing around on screen of an hour and a half. It was good, clean entertainment for my weary soul. But, as most movies go, things have to take a turn for the worse….and they did. Long story short: melting of polar ice caps makes food scarce and the mama and baby polar bears have to search wider and further for food. They go weeks without eating until the brother bear is too weak to continue. The dramatic narration accompanies footage of his slowing down and mother and sister pushing him on. They urge and they urge but he collapses at which point they lay on top of him to keep him warm but, despite their efforts, the baby polar bear does not make it through the night. In the morning, a grief stricken mama bear wails as the girl baby tries in vain to console her mother.
Now, let me take a break from this dramatic scene to talk about me…
You see, when I was younger, my parents took my sister and I to see “La Bamba,” the story of Ritchie Valens. At the time, I rather enjoyed the music of Ritchie Valens and Buddy Holly but, more importantly, I was in love with Lou Diamond Phillips. Up to that point, I actually did not know that Ritchie Valens died in a plane crash so when, as you may recall, at the end of the movie, Lou Diamond Phillips and his beautiful hair board the small airplane after a final concert at the Surf Ballroom in Clear Lake, Iowa (lemme hear a what-what an a shout-out to the CLI) and the next scene is his mother listening to the radio and hearing of his death and the plane crash and then the move ends shortly there after some slo-mo shots and wailing.
Back to me: The lights go up, and, completely shell shocked, I looked at my parents with my young and innocent eyes, and burst into tears. They looked at me, looked at each other, and burst into laughter. Now my parents are not cruel people, and I am sure that their reaction came from shock (I too am cursed with inappropriate reactions to shocking things) but, regardless, I was horrified and scarred and I have never cried in public again…EVER...unless I was really drunk (thanks, mom and dad).
Flash forward to Delta flight number whatevertheheck and there I am, stressed and worn out and watching a mother polar bear wailing in despair over the death of her baby. That was the final straw and I burst into tears making the already rigid lady sitting next to me, twice as rigid and uncomfortable and leaving Aaron in a state of sympathetic confusion.
I cried and cried with my face in my non-absorbent airline blanket, drank some water and took a moment to gain control of myself. Upon doing so, I put my headphones back on to finish the movie just in time to watch a polar bear attack the group of walruses and catch the baby walrus but, in a brave and selfless gesture, “Auntie” walrus charges the polar bear turning his attention on her and thus, sacrificing herself so that the young one can escape.
It was at that point I hurled my headphones to the ground and threw the blanket over my head where I remained for some time….humming “La Bamba” and cursing myself for the public display of emotion.
All of the emotion, stress and anxiety of an insane summer and the build up to leaving, getting ready to leave the country for 4 months, leaving my kitties again (who were all sick) and then heading to Delhi to try to hold the basket I’ve thrown all my eggs into (and its good deal of eggs), finally got to me and when I took my seat (middle seat, damn), I felt like my entire body had been put into a blender.
So, flight takes off and I am pleased to discover that the in-flight movie does not star Keanu Reeves or any of the Baldwin brothers but is, in fact, a documentary called “Arctic Tale” in which a group of filmmakers traveled north and followed animals there for 4 years to witness and document the effect of climate change and global warming.
The story begins with the birth of two baby polar bears and a baby walrus and follows them through their lives and exploits. The polar bears are brother and sister, raised by their mom and the walrus is a baby girl who is raised by her mother and “auntie”. You can imagine the levity in my heart, being a rabid animal lover, watching, what I thought would be baby animals playing around on screen of an hour and a half. It was good, clean entertainment for my weary soul. But, as most movies go, things have to take a turn for the worse….and they did. Long story short: melting of polar ice caps makes food scarce and the mama and baby polar bears have to search wider and further for food. They go weeks without eating until the brother bear is too weak to continue. The dramatic narration accompanies footage of his slowing down and mother and sister pushing him on. They urge and they urge but he collapses at which point they lay on top of him to keep him warm but, despite their efforts, the baby polar bear does not make it through the night. In the morning, a grief stricken mama bear wails as the girl baby tries in vain to console her mother.
Now, let me take a break from this dramatic scene to talk about me…
You see, when I was younger, my parents took my sister and I to see “La Bamba,” the story of Ritchie Valens. At the time, I rather enjoyed the music of Ritchie Valens and Buddy Holly but, more importantly, I was in love with Lou Diamond Phillips. Up to that point, I actually did not know that Ritchie Valens died in a plane crash so when, as you may recall, at the end of the movie, Lou Diamond Phillips and his beautiful hair board the small airplane after a final concert at the Surf Ballroom in Clear Lake, Iowa (lemme hear a what-what an a shout-out to the CLI) and the next scene is his mother listening to the radio and hearing of his death and the plane crash and then the move ends shortly there after some slo-mo shots and wailing.
Back to me: The lights go up, and, completely shell shocked, I looked at my parents with my young and innocent eyes, and burst into tears. They looked at me, looked at each other, and burst into laughter. Now my parents are not cruel people, and I am sure that their reaction came from shock (I too am cursed with inappropriate reactions to shocking things) but, regardless, I was horrified and scarred and I have never cried in public again…EVER...unless I was really drunk (thanks, mom and dad).
Flash forward to Delta flight number whatevertheheck and there I am, stressed and worn out and watching a mother polar bear wailing in despair over the death of her baby. That was the final straw and I burst into tears making the already rigid lady sitting next to me, twice as rigid and uncomfortable and leaving Aaron in a state of sympathetic confusion.
I cried and cried with my face in my non-absorbent airline blanket, drank some water and took a moment to gain control of myself. Upon doing so, I put my headphones back on to finish the movie just in time to watch a polar bear attack the group of walruses and catch the baby walrus but, in a brave and selfless gesture, “Auntie” walrus charges the polar bear turning his attention on her and thus, sacrificing herself so that the young one can escape.
It was at that point I hurled my headphones to the ground and threw the blanket over my head where I remained for some time….humming “La Bamba” and cursing myself for the public display of emotion.
