I just watched the movie Castaway. Call me crazy (and plenty of people have) but every time I see that movie or read Robinson Crusoe or something like that, I find myself wishing that I could be stranded on a desert island. Not to "get away from it all", but to survive. There's a part of me that wants to get out there, to test myself against the elements, to run around in a loin cloth and kill fish with a spear. Note that I said "test myself." I just noted it. Maybe it's some king of masculine ego thing that makes me feel the need to prove myself in the wild. I mean, I know the measure of a man is not how many things he can make out of a stalk of bamboo, but still, that feeling is there. I can't help but wonder if I would have what it takes to survive in that kind of situation, or would I be soft from pumping too many hours (and hours...and hours...let's be honest here) into this computer or into some other facet of my sedentary lifestyle? I mean seriously, how much time do I spend sitting down? It kind of makes me sick to think about it.
So if I all of a sudden go running off into the woods one day, you'll know what happened.
Sunday, February 17, 2008
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2 comments:
well, just give us a warning so we can have a going away party. and we'll try to supply you with necessities. such as: duct tape, flint, VHS ribbon, rope, Wilson, and an ice skate
You know, I've always suspected this trait in you and Adam, and Brett, and the gang. I'll pitch in a good knife for you to take along.
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