As all my dear friends know, from the minute I was brought
into this lovely world (complete with my rat-tail and purple track pants) I
have long been a practitioner of all things relating to the outdoors. Whether it be camping, hunting, or hosting
mud wrestling matches with grizzly bears and aging strippers in my backyard, I have
always been one with NATURE. Well at
least that is what I would tell the Dallas Cowboys cheerleading squad if we all
happened to be trapped together in some remote location.
The fact is from the time I was birthed I have been afraid
of everything outside of the comfortable confines of a brick and mortar house
(and many things inside those walls).
From a very young age, my mother actually thought I was going to grow up
to have some serious mental issues (seriously!). She could not take me out of the house without
me screaming and crying as every little critter scared me. Mosquito. Brent cried. Ant. Brent Cried.
Grasshopper. Brent Cried. Bee or wasp. Brent went into hysterics and probably
had to be heavily sedated with whatever drugs happened to be nearby. Brent sees
a black child. Proclaims to his mother that he must have drank too much
chocolate milk. Add to this the fact that the sound of a truck on the road
behind our house would send me into a fit/hysterics, well let me just say that
my mother and father would have every reason to think that they were going to
have to admit me to some kind of home for kids who are pansies.
This fear of all things NATURE is something that still
plagues me to this day. My favourite
story is one that takes place a few years after my initial introduction to
insects and black people, and is a tale my father still loves telling to this
day.
So the story goes, one day after dropping me off at
pre-school, my dad, not normally one to notice the acute things in life,
noticed that all the other kids were chasing me around the playground and I was
hustling as if my life depended on it.
Turns out, they were chasing me with a worm, which in turn caused me to
cry like the little Sally I am. Now, just
imagine, seeing your son being hightailed by a gang of 4 and 5 year old
hooligans holding a worm on a stick and your offspring running and balling his
eyes out as if he were being chased by a pack of rabid hyenas. Well, I guess my old man found it as funny as
the kids, cause he left me there to presumably die a slow and agonizing death
at the hands of that slimy 4-inch invertebrate.
Somehow, I managed to survive that dreadful morning some
twenty-something years ago, although I must confess I have never overcome my
fear and hatred of all things pertaining to NATURE. As I became a bit older (and no more wiser),
I discovered more things that I am afraid of.
When my sister and I would go on frog and toad hunting expeditions, I
would make her do all the "hunting" as I was petrified that the
little toads were somehow going to cause me bodily harm if I came within three
feet of them. When I would go fishing at
my grandparents' cottage, I would never do anything aside from hold the rod in
the water. Put a worm on the hook?
Forget about it! And what about if I actually caught a fish? Well thank god someone else was there, cause
there was no fucking way that me and my sweet-ass mushroom cut hair-do were
going anywhere near that half-pound sunfish!
And how about swimming in any kind of water that is not a chlorinated
pool? Forget about it! Maybe you like getting your toes bitten off
my guppies and tadpoles, but I happen to like my metatarsal bones to be intact,
thank you very much!
There you have it, I am afraid of NATURE. I admit it, and must say it feels good to get
that off my chest. Last year, I tried to
reverse this trend by taking part in the "sport" known as
fishing. I figured since I had moved to
the NWT, which is one of the greatest places on earth to fish I should try and
reconnect with NATURE. To say it was a
fail would be a massive understatement.
But more on that tomorrow.
Oh, and in case you're wondering, yes I am still petrified
of bees, wasps, hornets, and anything that flies really and am still actively trying
to figuring out life's other great mystery; How come I'm still so pale after
drinking thousands of litres of chocolate milk?
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