Nature VersusTelevision

Considering other states, I tend to take Colorado for granted.

Colorado has nearly everything--trails to hike or run, countless camping sites, rivers and lakes to fish in, pine trees to body slam after a heavy snow when you're a kid so all the snow fall downs onto you and you giggle and turn around to realize a grizzly bear fell out of the tree as well and you slowly tighten your snow gloves and say, "This will be our final battle". The only thing Colorado lacks is a real beach (in Florida, the grizzly bears charge out of the waves).

Anyways, since I recently covered caves I thought I would comment on Nature Herself, that luscious and cruelly indifferent babe. You see this babe a lot in Colorado. Just remember that no matter whether she's dressed warmly or in a skimpy bikini, you will STILL not know how the weather will turn out.

I like to think that I have always enjoyed the outdoors. Grew up in a nice house surrounded by pine trees and creeks and deer, which is a very relaxing atmosphere. Not to say I was the outdoors-y type. It's not like I went out on a regular basis in tight jeans to rest a cowboy boot on a fence, chew on a strand of hay, and start reckoning things. And unlike a lot of hike-y outdoors-y go-get-em-y Coloradans, I do not approve of horses unless they are used for meat, glue, or props in movies (this traces back to a traumatic incident in my childhood which I will relate on another occasion when I feel horses deserve a full blog post rant, which they most certainly do).

More often than not I instead let the Boob Tube educate me on the dangers of the outdoors, as well as recite to me those catchy commercial slogans ("Buy this or you shall be a lonely miserable failure for the rest of your life, you fat cow" was one of my favorites. This was, of course, before Dove cleaned up it's advertising department [two jokes in one, I'm so amazing]).

Now that I think about it, Nature and Television seem like two inherently opposed concepts. One is the stark reality of an indifferent universe while the other is a man-made application of fantasy. Sunlight and Nature in general give off negative ions (which are good for your brain) while technology such as Television and Computers give off positive ions (which are bad for your brain. I read all of this in Scientific Fact Magazine).

Also, there is no laugh track when a cougar leaps out of the underbrush and mauls a mountain biker.

So what did Television teach me? Television taught me that I have no place in society if I wasn't skinny, handsome, talented, white, skinny, charming, handsome, tall, and white. During one of my many amazing shenanigans (the journey into TV World), I experienced this prejudice first hand. Another thing I learned from TV is that Television Ugly is Not Very Ugly At All.

Of course I never took any of these lessons seriously. I knew what was important in life, and anything a TV could teach me probably wasn't it. But then one day I was passing by a mirror and much to my shock and dismay, I realized that I had quite a different body and facial structure than Brad Pitt. This also led to the revelation that I wasn't famous or rich, which as I understood it were both quite important things to be. And then I wondered why indeed I placed value on those things.

Naturally, I sold all my possessions and kissed my wife Shenavia goodbye (she would later die in a freak accident caught on YouTube, tragic) and I booked the nearest flight to Cambodia. If I didn't learn a thing or two from Nature in Cambodia, I don't know where I would learn it from (maybe Africa or the rain forest).

Anyways, I arrived and found I could not speak the language (being fluent in Jellyfish and Mole looks great on a resume, but has very little actual application). Fortunately, the locals could understand, as most people can, the language of manliness. I flexed some biceps and twitched some pecs and soon I was led to the edge of a jungle where I might find some answers.

I wasn't worried about survival. I had seen Rambo once and all you really need to survive in Nature is a bandanna, a big knife, no shirt, and a serious expression on your face.

Thank you, Television.

The first two weeks were fairly easy. I ate bats and fruits, played basketball with tigers, and tamed tarantulas to never go near me ever again (I found a high-pitched scream and a solid stomp does wonders). After two months, I may have gone a little insane. I'm not sure, I just remember eating a pig raw and discussing wine with Teddy Roosevelt, who at the time proclaimed to be the Queen of Nascar. I didn't disagree with him since I couldn't know for sure that he wasn't, plus he carried with him a very big stick. But, really, you know how guests can be, you can't step all over their feelings like they were tarantulas.

While insane, I do believe I lost sight of my objectives. I forgot all about the silly Nature versus Television concept and focused solely on survival, all the while calling myself Caroline and inventing an elaborate back story as to how I was a jungle princess and--well, details, details. Anyways, one day I was out for a stroll (i.e. hunched close to the ground like an ape/moleperson) surveying my kingdom (i.e. hooting and screeching at especially noisy birds in trees I thought belonged to me) when I found some old ruins. A naturally inquisitive creature, I proceeded inside.

And it was quite nice inside the ruins. The main temple room had been covered with fine carpeting, and tasteful furniture kept the feng shui at perfect balance. At the couch, drinking a glass of wine and watching an enormous plasma television screen, was a woman with green skin and green hair. I recognized her as Mother Nature from our previous encounter in New Mexico when we were robbing banks together.

I was outraged, although it took me a moment to remember why. I pounded my fists against my chest, blew up my cheeks, and tried swinging from the crystal chandelier Mother Nature had put up (I was too short to reach it so I contented myself with scuffling my heels against the carpet and headbutting a nearby painting).

"What's the matter with you?" she said, turning her attention away from the television. She was watching Desperate Housewives. Dear God she was watching Desperate Housewives.

I composed myself, stood up straight, and with some effort recalled human speech. "Madame, I find it highly offensive that you, Mother Nature, are partaking in televised entertainment. And Desperate Housewives, no less."

"Your head is bleeding excessively, Nick."

"That's Princess Caroline to you! Now explain yourself!"

"Well," she said, grabbing the remote and turning the volume down. She sipped some wine and then continued. "TV is a nice way to unwind from the day, I think. Sometimes it's nice to plop down and watch some Friends after spinning tsunamis all day. I mean, really, it's nasty business. And Joey cracks me up. How you doin'? How you dooooiiinn'?"

I don't know if it was the blood, but I saw red. "Listen to yourself. You sound like an idiot."

"Maybe I do," she said, sipping more wine. "But at least I still get my job done."

And then it struck me. I bid her good day, emerged from the jungle (terrifying several small children while doing so), and caught the nearest plane back to America. If the guy sitting next to me on the flight had any problem with my stench, he said nothing about it. Then again, I was covered with blood and pig grease and there was a knife cradled to my chest.

Y'know, I learned something from that whole ordeal. Too much Television is a bad thing, everyone can agree on that. But there's a reason our ancestors fled from Nature and created Television, too. Some days are nice for hiking, fishing, or tree tackling. Likewise, a snowy day with movies is also good. A healthy balance is a must. Exercise and taking the world in is great and sometimes Spongebob can be just as good (or better), but try to limit yourself once you start having conversations with trees or in a certain instance think to yourself, "That is something Squidward would TOTALLY do."