A Day in the Death of......

The phenomena of Reality TV has been of interest to me since I was a teenager and the first episode of The Real World, New York aired. It was GREAT! It was a crudely edited experiment of putting 7 very different twenty somethings together in a house and tear each other up. People and behavior tends to crack me up, in general. So I found it hysterical watching these people put their best feet forward and attempt to show the world the people they would really like everyone to think they are. I know some people who are really good at faking their way through life, but not one of them could keep it up 24/7 in a house full of crazies for very long, even with cameras in their faces. It wasn't long before the residents “stopped being nice, and started getting REAL”. And what American teenager in the early 90's didn't find entertainment in the misery of others? Thus, MTV made a new brand of Superstar out of average nobodies. Over the years, casts have become more controversial and the personalities more psychotic, and the shows too numerous to count. And why do we like it? The same reason we like Harry Potter or Cinderella or Charlie Bucket. At our core, we harbor a deep longing to be discovered as something special, unique and worthy, weather it be by way of a fairy godmother, a golden ticket or reality TV show.
But, reality TV has changed over the years, and though we're still bombarded by the raunchy petty angst shows (why do we give a crap about the Kardashians? Will Buffy get voted off Top Chef?) television has given us a glimpse into lives that are very different than ours. Not just the young and glamorous, but people just making a living, doing what they were doing long before a TV show came along.
I have never made a secret of the fact that I'm a Discovery Channel junkie. “I love the mountains...I love the stars at night.....boom de ada, boom de ada) A big part of the reason I became such is a program called “Deadliest Catch”. I remember watching the pilot episode while living in Corona, Ca, thinking, 'these guys are nuts! They risk their lives for CRAB?”. Then I saw their pay day, and it made sense. In Deadliest Catch, Discovery was not just making voyeuristic shock TV, they were documenting an industry that a very few number of people will ever be a part of, with people very few of us could ever know (probably because they're on a boat in the middle of the Bering Sea nine months out of the year). I have been a fan since that that first season, checking Discovery.com each year to see when the new season is airing and stalking the websites of Fishing Vessel's Time Bandit, Northwestern, and The Cornelia Marie. This, the shows sixth season, came back into the general spotlight due to the death of one of it's Captains, Phil Harris, on February 9th. His passing was not due to an accident at sea, but caused by a lifetime of drinking, smoking, stressing and general “hard living.”
No Captain of any crab boat is likely to have a healthy lifestyle, but evidence of Captain Phil's health problems came two seasons ago, when a pulmonary embolism went through his heart while setting and hauling crab pots. And next to him filming during all of this was cameraman/producer, Todd Stanley. His job, to capture the story of the lives of men who fish the Bering Sea. As a cinematic storyteller, he was commissioned to capture a beginning, middle and end to each of the small stories he encountered while living and breathing with the crew of the Cornelia Marie. He had been the camera operator in the wheelhouse at the Captain Phil's side for three years. The initially reluctant captain began to take Todd into his confidence and, eventually, the two became close friends. Phil's kids say that Todd knew Phil better than anyone in the world, sitting beside him through profit and loss, health and illness, triumphs and tirades. When Phil was found face down in his stateroom, victim of a stroke, Todd put down his camera to rush to his friend's side. There he would remain until Phil's final breath.
I thought it was odd that they allowed the cameras in the hospital, but there we were, watching the struggle, the family turmoil, then seeming miraculously quick progress, followed by the telephone call from one son to the other that their father had a second episode and passed. And there was Todd- friend, comforter, and storyteller. I wonder at what point Todd understood, if at all, that he was no longer chronicling the story of a Crab Boat Captain making a “beat the odds” recovery, but the story of a man's death.
Last night, a “behind the scenes” episode aired in which the plight of the unseen camera man is highlighted. They started doing this a few years ago, and it usually starts with a “pewk montage”, because all these guys are sick as dogs at first. This year, it began with a shot of Todd Stanley at the bedside of his friend, Phil Harris, offering tearful encouragement that he was “gonna' be alright”. Phil tries to speak, but is unable. Todd asks for something which Phil can write on and gives him a pen. He holds the tablet, Phil writes to his friend, “got to get the ending to the story”.
Now, before the season began, It was well known that Phil Harris had passed away February 9th. And, as an avid watcher of this show I can tell you that Discovery spent A WHOLE LOT more money on production, editing and marketing this season than previous seasons. A reported 8.5 million viewers tuned in to watch “Captain Phil's final episode”. No ifs, ands, or buts- we all tuned in to watch a man die.
How do I feel about that? Well, if it had put to me in those terms before I saw it, I would have probably had all this righteous anger and said it was in poor taste. But I'm glad I watched it. It was probably the Loveliest thing I have ever seen on television. These aren't characters or petty scripted Jersey Shore Crap. This is humanity, and humanity can be brutal and cruel and unfair, but it is also beautiful. And to see someone who pretty much knows he is about to leave that humanity behind and face whatever waits for him on the other side and be at peace with it is lovely and humbling and inspiring. (And none of us know the condition of Phil's soul but his creator. It is my hope he knew (knows!) Jesus).
I have cried during a Biggest Loser finale, bawled with a family after hearing the words “Move That Bus”, but I have never been so moved as I have with this season of Deadliest Catch.
Thank You Harris Boys for sharing life and death with us. The world seems smaller, and the understanding that we don't need to totally understand one another to love each other is a bit closer. It's what happens when we stopped being entertained, and start getting real.

The Lunatics Guide to Somewhat appearing to Have it Together

I will never claim to be wise, and don't think I am of the opinion anything I may have to comment about anything implies wisdom. All I have are my experiences and my perspective on them at the time, so PLEASE don't take what you may read here as TRUTH. There is nothing black or white or factual about it, and none of it can be proven. My aim is to vent and hope some of you can identify and gain perspective on your own experience. And perhaps, through that perspective, we may have compassion for ourselves and each other and form a sibling hood from our level of understanding.
That being said, I'm going to be all ignorant and judgmental for a moment. It cracks me up as I parooze the library, bookstores and Blog-o-sphere to find parents of five-year-olds writing authoritative information on parenting. People who have been married ten to fifteen minutes spewing marital advice. High profile wives whose husbands had an exposed affair and addiction giving an account how they've “delt with it” six months later. Arguably, someone must care, because, there they are, in Borders with their face on the back cover of “Busy Mom's guide to Successfully Having it All” by Bunny Lewis, age 26. I am in NO WAY trying to say that twenty-something mom's have nothing to contribute, but don't suggest you know how to raise healthy kids if you haven't, at least, sent any of yours to college. Now, if your title is “The Second Anniversary; A Young Couples Opinion of What We Think Might Be Working up to This Point”, well, to me, it seems a bit more honest.
Once Upon a time, there was a handsome prince who wore flannel shirts and drove a Honda. I was the lucky Cinderella who married that prince, and though the term “happily ever So Far” definitely applies, it is a general statement indeed. We continue to be madly in Love and “Happy” simply because we CHOOSE to be, and our experience is that will continue as long as we keep choosing.
Our Princess is a Perfect thirteen-year-old who is beautiful, brilliant, wise, creative, gifted and kind. If you ask me how anyone who has had to live their first 13 years of life in a house with me and is still all of the above, then my answer is simply Grace. I have NO CLUE. And I would whole heartedly still describe her as such even if I had just bailed her out of jail and staged an intervention to send her back to rehab for the third time (I may back off on “wise”, though) . Her choices in life would not change who she is, but simply expose her challenges working through the stuff of life to reach her God given potential.
The young Prince in our house is an eight year old like NO OTHER, and I say that with complete confidence. He is intelligent, loving, clever, self-assured, focused and funny. He has an autism diagnosis which makes each day a new adventure. He continues to work hard at dealing with people and navigating his way through a world full of relational inferences and gray area exceptions. And all I can do is bungle my way through equipping him to succeed the best I know how. But other than that, his progress is ultimately up to him ('cause God knows, you can't “Make Him” do it).
Both of our children seem to have a profound effect on people. They give people joy and inspire them. But, again, that all seems to be in spite of their circumstances of who their parents are and their current place in the world. The Bible tells us God won't give us anything we can't handle. Perhaps He knew I didn't have the coping skills to manage a husband or children who where any less than amazing.
So, this is my hypocritical contribution to a world already littered with Know-it-All's. The Secret of my Eventual Success:
Here's Hope- God Loves the Stupid and Blesses the Unworthy.