Ready, set, SHARK.

ALIEN SHARKS:  Return to the Abyss:  A program dedicated to exploring the deepest depths of the ocean in hopes of not only viewing the rarest shark species out there, but also discovering entirely new species of sharks.  This is absolutely amazing - how is it that we are STILL discovering new creatures?  The ocean floor is one of the least explored and understood parts of the wide world - less is known about our oceans and what is out there than space.  Think about that for a minute.  We live on earth and still know less about it than we do about what's NOT. ON. EARTH.  FREAKY. 

The expedition, set 1200 miles off the tip of Africa to plumb the depths of the Southwest Indian Ridge in the Indian Ocean, was searching for one shark in particular - the Big Eye Ragged-Tooth Shark, one of the rarest sharks on the planet.  This is, apparently, the "holy grail" for shark biologists.  Unfortunately, this illusive specimen didn't turn up, but in the meantime, what did we find??  LOTS-O-SHARKS:

Bottom Line:  "The deeper you go, the stranger it gets."

LAIR OF THE MEGA SHARK:  On Stewart Island, off the coast of New Zealand, stories have circulated about a giant Great White, a possible monster-size shark, and a group of researchers, including shark experts Jeff Kurr and Andy Casagrande, set out to find it.  

This island was once a whaling center, and some believe that the whale blood in the water created the perfect feeding ground for some of the biggest (and most aggressive) Great Whites in the world.  In fact, the indigenous tribes tell tales of a shark known as the Mango Taniwha - a supernatural, shark-like being said to be as big as a whale.  Jeff and Andy aim to get to the bottom of this "shark tale."  Yep, I went there.  FUN FACT:  Andy is one of the only photographers willing to get in the water with these extra-aggressive New Zealand White Sharks...so you know it's going to be good viewing.

Andy immediately starts the expedition off by jumping in with a pack of Great Whites SANS-cage, quickly realizes that was a bad move, and then gets into a cage no bigger than he is...and which looks just as flimsy.  While in there, he is surrounded by a gang of circling sharks, just looking for the right moment to snag him.  He survives (phew!), but the crew hears about an old, nearby shipwreck thought to be the stomping ground for many Great Whites.  Is anyone else picturing the shark gang from Finding Nemo?  Because I'm having trouble picturing anything else.

At this point, they drop a shark spy camera down into the water and see a massive shark approach.  They miss the opportunity to track that guy, but they hatch a plan to MANUALLY place a fin cam on the dorsal of another Great White so they can track him to the shark hideout.  To place the camera on the shark, Jeff and Andy get into a dinghy - a boat smaller than most of the sharks they are luring in - and Andy manages to finagle the camera onto one of the sharks.

They then track the big boy to an area with some underwater caverns, so Andy and "Kina" (a local shark expert and enthusiast) dive INTO the caves.  It's a nail-biter, but they escape unscathed, only to then drop a cage into the middle of a feeding frenzy where they are continually pummeled by a pack of Great Whites!  The pack suddenly disperses to make way for the Alpha - he's HUGE.  He bombards the cage until Andy and Kina yell "uncle" and get the team to pull them up.  The sheer size of the shark encountered proves that the legend of Mango Taniwha isn't that far-fetched, and that an even BIGGER shark may be out there.

Dun Dun DUUUUUUUUN.

That's it for day 3 - great programs tonight, DC.  I'm impressed.   

Let's just dive right in (pun intended):

GREAT WHITE SERIAL KILLER:  #ExtraSharky:  A program dedicated to understanding a series of Great White shark attacks off the coast of Lompoke, California, at a place called Surf Beach.  The first fatal attack (on young Lucas Ransom) happened in October of 2010, and the second (on Francisco Solorio) happened exactly 2 years and one day later at the same beach.  Coincidence??  I think not.

As the researchers explain, most shark "attacks" are actually not attacks at all, but investigation bites - these Great Whites don't have hands (duh), so they have to use their mouths to do the investigating.  While these bites do leave tooth punctures and are often mistaken for attacks, they are generally non-fatal.  But at Surf Beach, this wasn't the modus operandi.  Rather, shark scientists discovered that these were true, predatory attacks, made by a Great White in full-blown hunting mode.  These two attacks, two years apart, shared many of the same characteristics, begging the question of whether Surf Beach is just an area that attracts Great Whites...or if there is a Great White serial killer lurking in the shadows. 

The investigation takes the crew to New Zealand, to an area some of the most aggressive Great Whites on the planet call home, to compare the nature of those aggressive predators with the nature of the attacks made at Surf Beach.  It is here that, among a number of Great Whites, we meet the real star of the show, "Slash" - a Great White with a giant gash near its mouth who became a local legend after escaping a fisherman's hook.  Ol' Slash is, apparently, master of the "sneak attack."  

The crew then takes its observations from the New Zealand sharks back to California, where, to get a better idea of what a shark attack by a Great White looks like to a victim, one researcher gets in a submerged shark cage with a plexiglass panel (i.e., NO. BARS.).  Panic ensues, especially when an 18 ft Great White shows up and immediately starts attacking the cage's flotation devices in an effort to sink the cage (think Deep Blue Sea, but FOR REAL).  WHAT!?!  Craziness.

But back to the facts - we learn that Great Whites, especially pregnant females, hit the same migratory routes year after year, which could support the theory that these attacks at Surf Beach were made by one angry lady.  Apparently, on these migratory routes, the sharks congregate at specific locations (called anchor points), a tactic to which human serial killers are also prone.  The researchers then bring in a criminal profiler who has been conducting a study in which Great White hunting techniques are compared to those of serial killers, and GUESS WHAT:  the same algorithm that works for predicting serial killers' next moves works on Great Whites - these majestic sea monsters have specific anchor points for ambushing seals that can be geographically predicted.

But the question remains - were the attacks at Surf Beach the work of a single predator, or is there a herd of Great Whites silently waiting off the coast?  Evidence shows that more than one animal was likely involved, as high levels of domoic acid in the water (the highest on the entire West Coast, actually) were shown to be causing massive fish casualties in the area, bringing in larger predators like sharks and seals.  And (GET THIS) domoic acid also makes seals lethargic and almost drunk-like in their mannerisms, making them easy prey for sharks.  It's no wonder Surf Beach turned into an all-you-can-eat shark-style buffet!

Factual Takeaways and Interesting Tidbits:

• There are only 220 Great Whites in California waters.
• Great Whites are actually pretty choosy about what they attack - they won't eat just anybody.
• White Sharks have been known to change their diet based on the availability of prey (e.g., fish v. seals).
• Floating stationary on a surf board may be more dangerous than actually surfing - most attacks on surfers take place while they are waiting for waves as opposed to actually surfing them, and in the tests conducted, a non-moving decoy proved to be more attractive to the sharks than a moving one.
• Most apex predators use anchor points (e.g., lions, bears and SHARKS).
• Biggest difference between human serial killers and Great Whites?  Motivation - humans kill for psychological reasons, sharks kill for survival.

Bottom Line:  "The most dangerous sharks aren't the ones you see - it's the ones you never see coming."  Truth bombs.

JAWS STRIKES BACK:  In this program, an underwater shark camera, called Shark Cam, is used to film sharks at depths of up to 300 feet below the surface as they stalk elephant seals at Guadalupe Island, 250 miles off the San Diego coast line.  In other words, the researchers were going to use this underwater camera to determine what an attack looks like from the victim's point of view.  And since most victims a) are seals, and b) rarely (if ever) survive, such behavior that far below the surface has never before been documented.  Until NOW.

We learn that no one has actually seen a Great White attack an elephant seal in what should be a feeding paradise, which doesn't make a lot of sense given that there are seals EVERYWHERE on this island and there are sharks EVERYWHERE beneath the surface.  The researchers think it's because the attacks are happening down in the depths of the ocean, but they want to see if they can prove it.

So over the course of the show, we see the researchers tag three Great Whites at the surface of the water - "Johnny Shark," "Lupita" and "Deep Blue" - so that they can use Shark Cam to track them and film them underwater.  Those sharks then immediately dive down to 300-400 feet below the surface!  We discover that they do this because, while the waters around Guadalupe Island are generally clear, at those depths these large predators can't be spotted by their prey.  We then watch as Shark Cam documents repeated attacks on itself from predators flying up at it from directly below!  This was, apparently, the first time ever that a vertical deep water strike has been filmed.  We made history, friends!  And yes, I said "we," because I'm totally taking credit as part of the team on this.

I now know what being eaten alive looks like, and all I can say is THANK YOU, Discovery Channel, for the friendly reminder as to why I no longer get in the water.  I think I'm good for another year.

Factual Takeaways and Interesting Tidbits:

• More than 100 Great Whites gather at Guadalupe Island at this time of year, traveling more than 1000 miles to get there from an area in the Central Pacific known as the "Great White Cafe."
• Prime Great White chow time:  sunset.
• Great Whites roll their eyes back into their heads when attacking prey.
• A pregnant Great White could give birth to up to 14 live pups, each up to 5 ft long!

Bottom Line:  "It's a bad day to be an elephant seal."  Truer words have never been spoken.

MONSTER HAMMERHEAD:  A program about a legendary GIANT hammerhead shark spotted for years off the coasts of Florida and the Bahamas.  I know what you're thinking - this smacks of the Megalodon and Submarine mock-umentary debacle.  And you would be correct, as the "film" opens with this disclaimer:  "Stories of the 'Monster Hammerhead' are based on accounts from fishermen.  Trust them as you see fit."  In other words, complete hogwash.  

I will admit that I started watching it, because although the storyline is ridiculous, the program had some truly breathtaking footage of actual hammerheads, sharks which I think are absolutely beautiful.  

But then it got out of hand.  Apparently, the monster hammerhead star of this show is known as 'Old Hitler' to Boca Grande locals.  He has another alias - The Harbour Master - when he operates in the Bahamas.  Quotes by "eye-witnesses" included these gems:

• "Old Hitler would fight you to death."
• "Old Hitler would not let a fisherman catch him."
• "You gotta respect the sea."

All true.  Both when applied to hammerhead-Hitler and, well, real Hitler.

Somewhat entertaining, right?  BUT then I heard this:  "And later...sharks with freakin' laser beams."  No.  NO WAY.  I had to stop watching, as I will not support such obvious pandering.  Discovery Channel, you're better than that.  If I wanted to watch a ridiculous shark spoof, I'd have tuned in to SyFy for Sharnado 2: The Second One.  

It's the most wonderful time of the year.  No, it's not Christmas, IT'S FREAKIN' SHARK WEEK!  Which is better.  Because...SHARKS.  What is Shark Week, you might ask?

Well, as all great stories begin, once upon a time, a handsome prince (here, The Discovery Channel) set out to save a maiden (here, sharks) from a very villainous force (here, death and extinction).  Alright, maybe it doesn't quite fit the typical fairy tale model, but the bottom line is that in 1988, The Discovery Channel realized sharks were in very real danger of dying out and/or being hunted down, and in an effort (a quite brilliant one, I might add) to raise both awareness and a healthy respect for the species the world over, the network began an annual series of week-long programming dedicated to these mysterious, majestic and misunderstood sea creatures.  And so began the greatest period in our nation's history.  Note:  Not an over-statement.  Simple fact.

Fist-bumps to you, Discovery Channel, for realizing educational programming need not be boring.  Especially when the subject is SHARKS.  So for the next week, I will be providing takeaways, tips and (obviously) opinionated commentary on SW2014's programming.  Yay!  AND SO IT BEGINS.

AIR JAWS:  FIN OF FURY:  Every year, SW does at least one Air Jaws program, where actual shark experts (Note:  not fakers) search for the largest "jumping" Great White sharks out there (i.e., Great Whites that fly out of the water when attacking their favorite prey:  seals).  These programs are made up of awesome, adrenaline-pumping footage, where we wait on the edge of our seats as the crew comes closer and closer to getting the "money shot" - capturing a Great White in full breach, where the shark's entire body flies OUT. OF. THE. WATER. and nabs a seal (or seal decoy, as the case may be) in mid-air.  The catch is you have to sit through the entire program to get to that scene - the rest of the program is made up of the hunt for these sharks and near misses as the sharks come close to but not quite out of the water while stalking their prey.

This year, the producers changed it up a bit.  Instead of searching for Air Jaws, General, the team searches for Air Jaws, Specific - a shark they've dubbed Colossus - a shark so big (approx. 15 feet) that when it breached it melted faces.  This year, the crew is on a mission to find this particular shark, which hasn't been seen since its first appearance on Air Jaws back in 2011.  

The team begins its search off the coast of South Africa near Seal Island (obviously, a place where a bunch of seals hang out, despite the fact that every shark on the planet knows about it.  Stupid seals.), where Colossus was last seen so many moons ago.  It's there that the team decides to follow another large male Great White in hopes that it will lead them to Colossus' lair.  It's also at this point that we learn Colossus runs with a dangerous posse, made up of at least two other Great Whites named 'Kaz' and 'Shy Guy' (think Regulators, but with SHARKS).  Those two are spotted, but Don Colossus is nowhere to be found.  

AND that's when they learn that the sharks are heading to a super-secret submerged reef system called York Shoal to regroup.  Sidenote:  Is this not just THE perfect story line for a Saturday morning cartoon about a mafioso shark and his henchmen??  Give me a buzz, Nickelodeon - I've already got the whole first season worked out.

ANYHOO they find this lair, but Colossus is a no-show.  But does this deter the crew?  No way.  Instead they put up Colossus WANTED posters (yep, true story).  AND it's here that we meet the greatest thing to happen to TV since, well, Shark Week began...DICKIE.  Dickie is a local shark enthusiast who spies the wanted posters and comes up with the brilliant idea to make a life-size cardboard she-shark (yes, thin, flimsy cardboard) and get on it in the middle of a group of sharks to see if, by chance, Colossus will show up.  HOLY SHARK MEAT, BATMAN.  Colossus is, again, a no-show, but that's cool because Dickie almost dies.  

Then the crew (and Dickie) head to New Zealand, where one of them gets into a WASP (Water Armor Shark Protection device), which is a one-man shark cage, and goes down amidst 15-18 foot Great Whites that continue to attack this quasi-cage.  At one point he actually OPENS THE CAGE to take photos of the sharks as they swoop in for a bite.  W.T.F.  Colossus isn't there (duh) so they go back to Seal Island.  It's the last day of shark season and it's the last hour on the boat when we FINALLY get the money shot - Colossus falls for the ol' fake seal lure and jumps out of the water.  I can now sleep easier(?) knowing that Colossus is still alive and well and wreaking havoc on the seal population of South Africa. 

Factual Takeaways and Interesting Tidbits:

• The Great White's dorsal fin is like a human fingerprint - no two are the same.
• New Zealand is a prime destination for adult male Great White sharks, BUT there has been a genetic link discovered between sharks in the oceans around South Africa and the oceans around New Zealand/Australia, showing that the sharks make that trek year after year...or at the very least "hook up" in the middle, probably using Fin-der (the shark version of Tinder).
• Crew discovered that some sharks in New Zealand display a gang-style mentality, which is characteristic of Killer Whales but seldom witnessed in Great Whites.
• Sharks have been known to follow the same cycles of migration across oceans for two-year periods.

Bottom Line:  Sharks rule, humans drool.

SHARK OF DARKNESS:  WRATH OF SUBMARINE:  So...here's the thing (she said as she cleared her throat and stepped up to the soapbox).  Discovery Channel prides itself on giving its audience educational, and entertaining, programs, but such programs are usually (if not always) fact-based.  Last year, the station took a lot of flack for opening up SW2013 with a program about Megalodon, which was clearly canned, because they never stated it was a dramatization and apparently aired "real life footage" that didn't actually exist as part of the show.  People were pissed.  Not gonna lie, I definitely was.  Watching this year's opening "movie" rubbed me the same wrong way, though I will note that, this time, they at least provided the following disclaimer before it aired:  "Events may have been dramatized, but many believe Submarine exists today."

I'll say this - it's possible this Submarine movie (about a 35 foot-long shark named Submarine that attacked a whale watching expedition) may actually be based on fact.  But I'm not buying it.  Fool me once, Discovery Channel, shame on you.  But fool me twice...  They did, however, lure me in to watching the entirety of the program with this gem:  "One loan super-shark with an insatiable appetite for human blood."  I mean, if you're going to script this thing, go for the gold, and Discovery Channel, you nailed it.  Up top.

SO instead of going through this program, I'm going to provide a bulleted list of what NOT to do if you're trying to convince viewers that your dramatization is actually a documentary.  In no particular order:

• You cannot have an entire cast made up of pretty people.  Your "survivors" should, at the very least, be missing some limbs OR LOOK DISHEVELED.
• Your "witnesses" should not appear calm, cool and collected.  And they CERTAINLY shouldn't smile. 
• If the boat that capsized had time to float for a few miles before taking on water, they had time to call for help themselves (you even showed us the equipment) - that's why you always ALWAYS go with an electrical storm.  Duh.
  
• Never cast a hottie as an EMT.  You can't be that hot and that heroic and survive.
• Definitely don't talk about Orcas in the middle of a shark program - that would NEVER happen.  The battle lines between Team Orca and Team Shark go way to deep. 
• If your shark villain is going to have a distinguishing scar, do not make it a lightning bolt on its forehead, a la Harry Potter.
• Key to knowing this was more of a "movie" than a real show:  Discovery channel would NEVER say a shark's favorite meal is people.  Like never.  Never EVER.  EVERY fact-based SW program focuses on explaining why sharks are misunderstood and why people mistakenly get attacked by them (and it's always because they look like seals/real shark food). 

So there you have it - SW2014, Day 1, in a nutshell.  Hope your Monday is filled with sharks and flowers!

Dear Loyal Readers (a.k.a., other Idle Minds) - There will be no entry this week, as I need to prepare for SHARK WEEK 2014 (cue the Jaws music).  But don't fret!  Tune in starting next Monday for DAILY recaps of lessons learned and survival take-aways from each action-packed SW2014 program.

Just when you thought it was safe to get back in the water.  NOPE.  Good thing you have me to be your shark sherpa.  It's about to get real.

So I'm a bit of a Type A personality.  I think we have rules for a reason, and that if people abide by said rules, things tend to run smoothly.  However, there are many unspoken rules just as important as the official ones, rules that provide us with a code when it comes to interacting with others.  Why many among us have never learned those rules is a mystery to me, but those people exist, and they make it impossible for we orderly folk to get through a single weekday unscathed.  I give you the four worst code-breaking offenders (in order of appearance):

Starbucks Newbies.  First of all, how is this your first time at a Starbucks?!  How could you have gone over twenty years (yes, the chain has been around that long) without ever having stepped foot in a Starbucks?  You would think that, even if you didn’t love coffee, you would have at least ducked into one to see what all the fuss was about.  Well, mon frere, I can tell you this:  those of us who DO frequent the ‘Bux on a daily basis are not sympathetic to the fact that you don’t know what you’re doing.  Lucky for you, the baristas as Starbucks don’t operate under a Soup Nazi mentality, but those of us that need caffeine to kick-start our mornings surely do.  So the fact that you have chosen a weekday morning, pre 9:00 am, as your first Starbucks experience is both baffling and unacceptable.  First, you are the lone obstacle standing between a line full of caffeine addicts and their drug of choice, and you are taking WAY too long to get out of the way.  Of all the days you could have picked to visit a Starbucks, you picked a weekday MORNING, at a time when those that do have a morning routine are rushing to get their coffee and get into the office, so you are clearly an inconsiderate person with no ability to recognize human suffering.  And second, do you REALLY need the barista to explain why they call a small a tall and a medium a grande?  Who CARES???  That’s just the way it is, so order your stupid mocha frappucino at 8 am (which we know is what you’re going to pick, since it’s the “safe” first-Starbucks-experience choice) and GET. OUT. OF. THE. WAY.  Thx.

Drivers Bucking The Turn Signal.  Oh man.  OH MAN.  These people are the WORST.  I once heard Louis C. K. explain that he was the worst version of himself in his car, and I am, too.  My road rage knows no bounds.  I’m definitely not a perfect driver, but I take issue with what I consider to be unacceptable driver etiquette.  For example, seeing a long line of cars in an exit lane on the freeway and trying to cut into that lane at the last minute pretending you didn’t see the line of cars (it's the pretending that gets me - like you "didn't know" that all those cars were in line to exit.  Thank GOD I don’t have to get on a freeway to get to work, or there would be way more murder.), or pulling in front of someone going pretty fast only to then go slow when there was no one behind the person you cut off and you could have easily waited the two extra seconds, considering you’re clearly in no hurry to get anywhere.  But I will relegate myself to discussing only those jerks who refuse to use a blinker when turning and/or switching lanes.  Those turn signals exist for a reason.  They are not there to turn your dashboard a party; they are there to give other drivers out there the benefit and courtesy of a heads up when you’ll be making a decision that affects their own driving.  God said “let there be turn signals,” and car manufacturers everywhere obeyed...let's not go against God, mmkay?  If you’re not using your signal, there can be only three possible explanations:

1. Your turn signal is broken.  That’s fair, and pretty much the only acceptable reason not to use a turn signal.  But unless it broke just a few minutes ago when you left your house, you shouldn’t be driving your defective vehicle. 
2. You think you’re better than everyone.  News flash, Walter Cronkite:  You AREN'T.  
3. You’re an idiot.  Odds are you fall into category No. 3, and I hate you.

Bathroom Gossip Queens (as distinguished from ‘Gossip Queens, General’).  Here’s the deal – I totally understand your love of all things gossip, I really do.  I myself have been known to partake in a saucy discussion or two about the activities of people I know (both real and “fictional,” a la The Real Housewives of [fill in any city in America]) and am definitely curious to hear about you-know-who doing you-won’t-believe-what in front of you-guessed-it.  But I’m pretty sure there are places to discuss those happenings other than in a workplace bathroom.  And I KNOW for a fact they definitely aren’t interesting enough to warrant discussing across bathroom stalls when a) you know there is someone else in the bathroom and b) having heard the discussion, it is definitely not so important that it couldn’t wait the 3-5 minutes it would take you to do your business, wash your hands (please PLEASE wash your hands) and exit the scene.  The fact that you are literally sitting on a toilet jibber-jabbering to someone two stalls down is both disgusting and unbelievable.  There is no need to talk to anyone at that time.  Focus on what you're doing and make a quick exit.  Besides, wouldn’t you much rather discuss those happenings over a bottle of wine and a cheese plate?  That’s what wine bars are for.  I know, I just blew your minds.  You’re welcome.

The Grocery Sloth.  Unlike real sloths (which are sugar and spice and everything nice), the grocery sloth is a bottom feeder, scum-of-the-earth type.  To me, these individuals can be viewed as nothing more than blob-like, bumbling objects standing between me and my couch after a long, LONG day at the office, which I can only liken to some dummy deliberately inserting himself between a bear and its cave:  if you don’t move in an orderly fashion and quit blocking my exit, I will cut you.  If you are in the grocery store, and in no hurry to get home, I ask only that you not stand in the direct middle of any isle, so as not to block the paths of other would-be passers-by.  There is a way to go about your business without interrupting that of another person, and for those of you who understand this, I applaud you.  But there is definitely a particular segment of society (i.e., the Grocery Sloth population) with a callous disregard for the time and patience of the people around them and who appear to actually go out of their way to treat the grocery store like a) their own personal fiefdom, where anything goes and the world revolves around them, or b) the Global Guts arena – I get that you're only out for No. 1, but the rules say you don’t win by slowing me down with your obstacles, and you surely don’t win by getting to the last greek yogurt before I do, because while you may get to take that trophy home, I have a feeling my claws in your back might make it a little less enjoyable. 

So there you have it - the four people making the fantasy of a stress-free weekday unobtainable.  How can you yourself help prevent such atrocities?  Simple:  in every situation you encounter, simply ask yourself "what would a human do," and just do that.  Note:  If you have to ask yourself this question, odds are you are one of the above offenders, but it's never to late to turn your life around.  I believe in you!  

If you weren't one of the thousands of kids rushing home from school in a panic over missing the first few action-packed moments of The Disney Channel’s afternoon line-up, then you have lived an incomplete life.  From roughly 1990 to 1993, before graduating to shows like Hey Dude, Salute Your Shorts and (later) My So-Called Life (i.e., real teen angsty shit), my after-school life consisted of nothing but cartoon ducks, bears and chipmunks.  If you’re thinking that makes me a loser, you a) clearly never saw these shows and b) have an opinion that means absolutely SQUAT to me, so move it along.  Though all the shows that played on the Disney Afternoon block are near and dear to my heart, I choose to honor three specific programs for their high quality hijinks and general awesomeness.  In no particular order:

TaleSpin:  This show focused on the adventures of Baloo the bear (yes, from The Jungle Book), working as a pilot for an air cargo freight business in the tropical paradise of Cape Suzette (sadly, Cape Suzette is not real.  Trust me, I’ve looked into it.).  Baloo’s business is bought out by a sassy Rebecca Cunningham when Baloo is delinquent in payment (sending a good message to little girls the world over – ladies, you CAN have it all…if the “all” you’re seeking is to be a bear and order around a snarky pilot who you have a secret crush on).  The possibilities for romance between Baloo and Rebecca are seemingly endless, but (spoiler alert) it never actually happens.   Baloo is joined by his second in command – orphan boy and former air pirate Kit Cloudkicker (think Yogi and Boo-Boo but with more heart), and this rag-tag bunch gets into a series of misadventures as they fight to prevent air pirates and other would-be street toughs from entering their fair city.  These cubs are the unsung heroes of Cape Suzette, but tales of their bravery in thwarting off constant and unwelcome attempts at invasion by bad-news-wolf Don Karnage will live on in 90s lore.  AND in this blog.

Chip ’n Dale Rescue Rangers:  Every straight-laced dude (or chipmunk, in this case) needs a balancing act, just like every yin needs a yang.  Think Joe and Brian from Wings, or Richard and Larry from Weekend at Bernie’s, and Chip and Dale are no exception.  Chip and Dale (but let’s face it, mainly Chip) start the Rescue Rangers detective agency, along with gal-pal Gadget (the real brains of the operation, and the source of some bro-code problems between Chip and Dale, who are both clearly in love with her despite their ‘munks-before-punks’ attitudes), Monterrey Jack (a bad ass giant mouse, duh) and Zipper (a fly who speaks only in buzzes, a la Lassie).  Though they take on all kinds of cases (those “too small” for regular beat cops to handle), they often face the same nemeses:  Fat Cat (a tabby cat mafioso type) and mad scientist extraordinaire Norton Nimnul.  Our protagonist crime-stoppers foil devious plots and stop would-be villains from succeeding in their evil schemes in each adrenaline-pumping half-hour episode, all while dealing with the drama of working alongside their best buds.  Hilarity quite obviously ensues. 

And last, but certainly not least, no reference to The Disney Afternoon would be complete withput a true hat tip to the star of the line-up, DuckTales.  If you never saw Scrooge McDuck swan dive (pun intended) into a room full of gold coins, I’m sad for you and you are clearly living an unfulfilled life.  That opening scene alone was the sole image that drove me to strive for success in my own life – I aspired to one day have my own room full of beautiful coins to dive into.  I’m pretty close, too…just 50 or so more years to go.  Scrooge McDuck is the curmudgeon-y great uncle to trouble makers Huey, Dewey and Louie (distinguishable by their color-coordinated hats and sweaters), dumped fortuitously on his doorstep one fateful day by dead-beat dad Donald Duck (don't even get me started on that loser - couldn't even afford pants).  Scrooge is the richest duck in the world and is obviously trying to stay that way, but “lesser” ducks (most notably, Flintheart Glomgold, the world’s second-richest duck (and therefore known as the 'first loser' among duck-kind)) are always after his coins.  At the heart of Scrooge's gold collection is his Number One Dime, the coin that he believes paved the way for the rest of his fortune to come rolling in, and all of the show's villains are striving to pry it from his feathery grasp.  Good luck, chumps – Scrooge-y-poo and his clever ducklings are always one waddle ahead of you.

At this point, I could go into pages of discussion and analysis as to why I loved each of these shows, the lessons I took away from them and how each had a hand in turning me into the well-adjusted, idle-minded lady I am today, but I can sum it up with just five words:  Disney Afternoon Equals Pure Bliss.

The McRib:  A sandwich (supposedly made of meat) offered by global food chain McDonald's.  It was originally introduced to the market in 1981 and was removed from the menu four years later due to "poor sales" (in other words, because it was so disgusting no one would go near it).  It was then re-released in 1989 and, since 2006, has been on an annual "farewell" tour.  No other food (that I'm aware of) requires a list of 100 reasons to convince someone to eat it.  And the last "reason" listed (i.e., "No Bones of Contention") is the most disgusting one of all - despite the word "rib" in its name, the sandwich contains no actual bones.  Rather, the "meat" has been shaped into a rib-like concoction in an attempt to make it appetizing.  Clearly, McD's FAILED.  Like really failed.  Like I wouldn't eat that ever.  It looks like a dog's chew toy...on a good day.  Just gross.

And here's the thing - you want to make a "meat" (yes, I used quotes, like "allegedly" it's meat) sandwich without bones in it?  Fine.  Those exist.  See hamburger.  But what is, quite frankly, unacceptable is the attempted trickery.  First of all, I will not be hoodwinked into believing that there are real bones in this sandwich because a) there aren't, and b) your whole campaign centers around the the fact that bones in a RIB sandwich are overrated.  Result?  Clearly there are no bones in this thing.  THE JIG IS UP.  But second, why wouldn't you put bones in a sandwich NAMED after a BONE?!  Makes no sense.  Like none.  Why even SHAPE it like bones if there are no bones in it and you are using the fact that there are no bones in it as a reason to buy the sandwich?!  I'm BAFFLED.  Befuddled, even.  Basically, I'm any word that conveys disgust mixed with wide-eyed wonder. 

And if the shape of this item alone wasn't enough to ward off would-be purchasers, the fact that the people who make it have to DRENCH it in sauce to even give off the impression that it "might" be considered food  should be the final nail in the coffin to those pondering their orders in line at McDonald's establishments the wold over.

But the most confusing part of this whole thing is that people (yes, humans, and not starving dogs) continue to buy this sandwich.  

It goes on a "I'm-leaving-forever-so-get-me-while-you-can" tour every year.  And every year millions of people (likely the same segment of society who indulges in Croc-buying) flock to McDonald's to purchase and consume this insult to food.  Like other food must be really pissed that this thing passes as edible.  I know I'm insulted that other humans actually consume this and pretend like that is "eating."  It's not.  You're lying to society and, as your stomach will prove in a few hours, to yourself.  And when will this cycle end??  You want to go on a goodbye campaign?  Great.  But that means you actually have to LEAVE.  Like REALLY.

So, as it turns out, the people of McDonald's are the real geniuses.  Not those suckers working for the Googles, Amazons and Facebooks of the world.  Oh no.  Rather, that pimple-faced 15-year-old staring at you in judgment and asking if you want to supersize that "meal" is the real smarty.  He's working for a company that has figured out how to trick you into eating stuff shaped like other stuff (like stuff meat itself won't even eat) and to make you think that a) this is a "once in a lifetime" chance to try this abomination, and b) being rib-based in name but containing no actual ribs is a good thing (Bones?  Who needs them??).  

So here's to you, Ronald.  You win this round.  And you should be paying your marketing team BILLIONS.    

To that, I offer you simple hat tip...coupled with a shake of the head and a face mixed with puzzlement and  disgust.

For those of you not up-to-date on your 'Shark News' (totally unacceptable), Katharine is a massive Great White Shark bee-lining it to the Texas coast like her fins are on fire.  Researchers and scientists alike are puzzled as to why she's heading here at all, but, more specifically, what's her hurry?  The answer:  ME.  

I am equal parts terrified by and in awe of sharks, and the Great White Shark is at the top of my "Know Your Enemy" list.  Yes, I have a list of enemies, and once you're on there, it is nearly impossible to get off.  I'm looking at you, Mandy Moore (Note:  I would have cited to IMDB, but I refuse to consider her an actress...which is a subject for another day).  ANYWAY I want to make this clear from the outset:  I think sharks are truly beautiful and amazing creatures.  Creatures that are, literally, perfect killing machines.  They haven't evolved in millions of years because they haven't had to.  And because of my healthy respect for the species, I stay out of the water, and they stay off land...for now.  

But this Katharine brod is now bum-rushing Texas like she's about to sprout legs and start walking on (or out of) water.  I've known this day was coming and have been squawking about it for years, and it's finally here.  The day has arrived when sharks come in droves to wait just inside the waters of the Texas shores for the day I drop my guard and dip a toe in the water.  Yes, much like the field in Field of Dreams, I built this metaphorical soapbox, and now the sharks are gathering like someone chummed the water on Christmas morning.  They heard tales that I bravely got ankle-deep into the water in Costa Rica, and now they think it's only a matter of time until I do it again.  Well, my prophecy has come to pass; Katharine is just the first one to arrive.  And her timing is epic.  

It's July 4th weekend - the one weekend when all anyone can think about is the beach, fireworks and a good old fashioned BBQ.  And to be fair, that's all Katharine is thinking about, too...though she prefers her meat raw.  She's even brought a bratty little sister along to join her at the table:  Betsy.  Betsy is a (slightly) smaller Great White Shark also presently calling the Gulf of Mexico home.  She's moving a little slower than Katharine, but don't be fooled - she's just as real.  This Thelma & Louise-like duo is taking our warm waters by storm, and I'm sure the rest of the shark "fuzz" won't be far behind.

And what is with these names??  Do the powers that be (otherwise known as "Those-With-The-Authority-To-Name-Sharks") think that by tagging these trail blazers with innocuous and, quite frankly, BORING names, people won't be as intrigued, terrified or razor-sharp focused on the impending shark plague (think:   locusts of Egypt but with fins instead of wings.  Obviously.)?  Think again.  What kind of person spells the name 'Katherine' with a random 'A' in the middle of it?  Who ARE these shark namers?  Real talk:  much like the strippers of the world who spell their names with little hearts over the i's, you are only giving a disservice to these creatures.  Those glued to a computer screen tracking these ladies are rolling their eyes at you in outrage and disgust.  I mean really.  If I have to be eaten, can't it be by a shark named 'Fang' or 'Bruiser' or 'Jaws'?  'Katharine' is just embarrassing.  Like one step up from Cindi (with an i).  And don't think that Little Miss Katharine herself isn't pissed about this.  After me, I have a feeling you fools are now at the top of her "Know Your Prey" list.

Katharine, I know you're out there, and I've got my eye on you.  Let's just call a truce:  I won't get in the water this weekend, and you won't eat me, mmkay??  And for the love of all that is holy, slow your roll.

Cucumbers are quite simply the worst thing that has happened to food since, well, disease.  Strong stance?  Yes, but 100% ACCURATE and undeniable.  In short, cucumbers are to main courses what lemon is to dessert:  an uninvited guest whose very presence makes you want to shake your fist in outrage.

They add nothing to food.  In fact, they make food worse.  Like WAY worse.  Like "I'll-pass-on-food-forever-rather-than-eat-this" worse.  And if they weren't bad enough on their own, they are made infinitely worse by the fact that they are constantly being snuck into other, perfectly acceptable foods.  That's really the main problem with these horrible beasts - they assault you at every turn.  Let's call it what it is:  food torture.

Some of you are reading this thinking to yourselves, "C'mon, they're not that bad; you hardly notice them."  WRONG.  They are everywhere.  And they taste awful.  You DO notice them, and you know how I know??  Because they make every food I like taste disgusting.  

And the REAL problem is you can't get away from them.  Trying to tell a waiter not to put cucumber in your meal makes you feel like an old man trying to send back soup at a deli:  no one is listening to you, and even if they are, they think you're crazy.  So, to combat this problem, we few but strong-willed cucumber-hating pioneers are often forced tell those handling our food that we are allergic to them.  BUT here's the rub:  apparently, it is nearly impossible to be allergic to cucumbers.  They are over 90% water (the remaining 10% consists of a combination of dirt, murdered dreams and wet dog smells, obviously).  Which means that these plants have us caught between a rock and a hard place:  we're forced to either swallow our pride, along with the cucumbers, or be unfairly deemed high-maintenance liars by waiters the world over.   

While I could opine on this subject for hours, I will narrow my focus down to the top three foods cucumbers ruin for me on a daily basis:

Sushi.  Over the years, sushi has become a regular in my food lineup.  The best part about sushi is that it comes in a variety of flavors (much like ice cream but without the calories).  Can't decide what type of fish you want for dinner?  No problem - sushi, if you're unfamiliar with it, allows you to blend spices, flavor profiles and various types of proteins into bite-sized pieces of deliciousness that you can eat without ever really feeling full.  So, in a word, sushi is spectacular.  That is, sushi was spectacular.  Until the day some bozo trying to make a name for himself starting telling everyone how much better sushi could be by adding some hideous, flavor-sucking vegetable to it (a la, The Emperor's New Clothes).  Now these terrible things are used in sushi rolls to a) "cut" the spicy flavors or, what I now believe, b) preemptively ward off the run on sushi restaurants that would inevitably occur if cucumber was nowhere to be found.

Pickles.  For those of you that don't know, pickles are actually gussied up cucumbers.  However, and I can't stress this enough, they are not the same thing.  They taste nothing alike, they look nothing alike and you certainly never hear of someone seeking out a cucumber at a state fair (Note:  If you haven't been, state fairs are where everything delicious comes to play.  Get thee to a state fair immediately...and bring me back a corn dog).  Rather, pickles are cucumbers' hot cousins.  They are briny, crunchy and could kick a cucumber's ass if they happened upon one in a dark alley.  But the fact that they come from cucumbers truly ruins them for me.  To steal a line from a well-known pontificator, learning that pickles actually come from cucumbers is like learning that the main singer in UB40 is just an old white guy.  Once you learn that fact, there's really no going back. 

Water.  Yep.  I said WATER.  Do you have any idea what it's like to be insanely thirsty and have only cucumber water as a drinking option??  I do.  And I was hungover when it happened.  True story.  Spas are the worst offenders - they take something as pure and simple as water and, by adding a single ingredient to it, turn it into an assault on the senses.  Yes, senses.  Plural.  Not only do I have to taste my water now, I also have to smell the offensive odor that emanates from these wretched veggies.  Gross.  When you think of water, you think of a babbling brook, or an ocean, or a river.  All places where cucumbers are nowhere to be found.  So putting them into water is certainly not natural.  And rather then send me into spa-like serenity, the presence of a cucumber in what would otherwise be the purest beverage on the planet sends me into a frothy rage of (warranted) hostility.

Boom.  Case closed.  Cucumbers = Death.  The guy who wrote Little Shop of Horrors gets it.  You try telling me this man-eating plant doesn't have a cucumber as an ancestor somewhere in the family tree:

Winged creatures:  one shade away from dinosaurs.  Literally, the predators of the sky.  How is it possible, one might ask, that some of these creatures have evolved (regressed?) past the point of having hands while others have, instead, upped their predator rating and developed CLAWS??  Easy answer:  birds are dumb, and bats are badass (but terrifying) vampires.  

My premise, in a nutshell, is that birds are FREAKS because they don't have hands, but bats are SCARIER FREAKS because they do.  Let's take a closer look: