Missives from the Swamp

... You sport the watermelon mustache.

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What happens to a gentle soul when it is confronted with a terrible choice?  What you do if the choice was to save yourself or take away the life of an "innocent" life?

David A. is a friend from Austin who embodies all that the liberal city stands for.  He and I used to talk about how to make the world a better place and why John Lennon was right (especially in the "Imagine" song).  He used to call me to tell me (excitedly!) that the bluebonnets were blooming or that Amy's ice cream (finally!) had pumpkin pie ice cream.  We would sit at the Amy's on Guadalupe, eating our pumpkin ice cream, and discuss profound issues that concerned the world:

David:  Gregory, what do you think the world would be like if we took away all the bombs and guns and other thing that could hurt people?

[Silence]

Gregory (me):  Gee David, that would be awesome.

[Slience, except for the sound of eating]

David: Yeah, it would.  It would be awesome.

Then, it happened.  David was searching the Florida swamps for rare orchids.  He belongs to a group call "Pax Orchid De Facto" that saves the rare flowers for the future generations.  He was picking a beautiful Hammer Orchid when he heard a rustling in the saw grass.

It was a fourteen alligator and it had its hungry eyes on David.  The enormous animal moved towards David.  It was clear that "flight" was not an option.  "Easy there fella," David said.  "I don't want to hurt you."  He moved and the reptile followed accordingly.  David surmised that there was only one option.  Closing his eyes, he said a little prayer to mother earth and apologized for what he had to do.

The next few minutes were a series of roars, grunts and thrashing in the water.  The gator flipping to the top and back down the to the bottom and back up again.  Then, there was silence.  And after the silence, weeping.  David was weeping for the life he took.  I share this picture with you in honor of David and this majestic animal.

David weeps for his brethren. "We all Earth's children," says David.

EDITOR'S NOTE:  Please go back and read this again.  This time, please acknowledge the fact that David A. is an avid hunter.  Also, the only thing he has ever done in the bluebonnets is lie waiting for some innocent deer to approach, so he could eat raw backstrap off the animal's warm carcass. I would have no doubt that David probably killed this alligator with his own hands.  He is a man's man, and I'm gleefully awaiting my gator belt.

Something is happening to the children.  An evil influence.  The black veil has been pulled over the little ones.  A veil called "summer."

Daisy displays a pig's heart she plucked out at the last tribal gathering.

During the school year, both kids had structure around them.  This created strong, able little citizens that understood the idea of going to school and the privileges of doing well in life.  There were time restraints.  We would try to get them into bed by 9pm and out of bed by 7am.  There were duties.  We came home to do our homework or spent the hours after school doing activities and sports (with expectations that our children will become professional dancers and/or baseball players).

Then summer came.  With it, I've seen a frightening fraying of the school year's sense of order.  In the Kallenberg household, it's been like watching "Lord of the Flies."  T and D have gone from bright-eyed little rule-followers to dirty little natives with a keen sense of "survival of the fittest" and how flexible their non-violent, coddling parents can be.

Tobias commits an act of civil disobedience with reckless aplomb.

The kids started going to bed later and this sparked midnight conversations based around how "school sucked" or why "that kid is a crap head."  This devolved into Daisy listening to Hannah Montana really loud and finding Tobias spending his summer reading time "learning about life by using my Wii."  Now, the kids have started to dictate that every other night is "pizza and ice cream night."  The nights in between those nights have been reserved for "watching PG-13 movies and drinking Coke Zero."

What next?  Who knows.  The summer is just beginning.  All I know is that both kids have taken to Googling things like:  "Anarchy Johnny Rotten How", "Martial Arts Fatal Self Defense Parents Bossiness", "The Who Teenage Wasteland" and "Endless Summer Surfing Babes."  As they further descend into the orderless chaos of the season, I'll keep you posted.  Until then, pray for us.

For those of you traveling in Europe, Brazil and/or the Middle East, it's old news that "Eating Levi" can be found on television (usually playing somewhere between the Ronco apple peel-o-matic and Juiceman's "Juicebox Hero" video).

For those of us stateside, it might surprise and delight you that, when taking your vacation abroad, there is an alternative on cable and pay-per-view aside from the adult films on Spectravision.  Below, please find a glowing review from the Jerusalem Post.  At least, that's what our distributor told me.  It could actually be a terrible review, or worse, this could be a story about Levi Oliver and his attempt to go over and start a tamale business.

For purposes of this entry, let's stick to "glowing review."

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1) The humidity gauge starts at 83%.
2) The temperature gauge starts at 91 degrees.
3) Monster trucks are ubiquitous.
4) All of the above.

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As hurtled back towards the scorching swamps of Louisiana, Colorado sent us a final "screw you, we're Colorado, not hot and sweaty Stanley Kowalski loving, Dallas Cowboy adoring South".

Driving back, we encountered the glorious snowy wonderland at the top of Independence Pass, 36 degrees, 6 feet of snow.

Next stop: Stifling heat and humidity.

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So there we were, at Mountain Chili and Microbrew fest. Heidi asks me to go get her a bottle of water. She says she's hot. When I return, this is what find. For the uninitiated, this is a hot chili. That's right, I found Heidi staring deep into the eyes a pepper.

What did I do next? I told him to haul ass ("Go jump into a fish taco" were my exact words). He then challenged my virility ("What kind of salsa would you be? I'll tell you: mild and sweet."). A melée ensued and the cops broke it up before I could toss him on the grill with his cousin the poblano.

Needless to say, Heidi and I left together. As for the pepper, I made sure a produce truck picked him and dropped him at the closest Mexican restaurant.

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I mean, really! Where is the traffic, the mean people, the stress of the city? You can't even find a whacked out homeless guy to hassle you while you're on a picnic.

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As the storm subsided, my children celebrated by acting like nothing happened. "What blizzard?", Daisy asked.

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We got caught in the blizzard! This is movie magic. Experience the power and majesty of a June snowstorm. My kids expressed their appreciation for nature by totally freaking out.

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