Amazing Race: It's Official

The WINners (the Cho Bros) are the dumbest team ever. I don't know what else to say about a relatively competent team that freely chooses to STOP RACING and wait for all the slowass members of your "alliance" to finish a task before moving on. Sigh. All the good karma in the universe may not be enough to save these guys.

Anyone else think it was just a tad suspicious that Dave and Mary got non-eliminated again? Could it be that the producers use the non-elim option selectively? Impossible to prove, but I have my suspicions.

Beyond that, I'm enjoying watching the evil beauty queens work it, and the bickering couple are funny. But I still find myself with no one to cheer for.

Happy Halloween

From "Old MacDonald"

Amazing Race: Karma Chameleon

So, the WINners went a little overboard on my suggestion that it would be strategically smart to help the weaker teams stay in the race. I didn't mean to imply that they should risk knocking themselves out of the race to do it. I suspected they'd have ample time to catch up from their poor position in the first Road Block, so the risk in letting Dave and Mary go for the Fast Forward never seemed grave. But still--that showed some serious, um. . .class? Selflessness? Lack of competitiveness? Stupidity? However you look at it, I'd argue that the rest of the race has now become a grand experiment in Karma. Usually we westerners (especially those of us who enjoy stupid reality shows) think of karma as a big smack of comeuppance to those who act unethically. Will it work the other way? Will the WINners be rewarded for their generous action with excellent taxi luck, precise directions from the locals, and, eventually, a million dollars? That's the test. I'm looking forward to seeing good karma in action.

Next question: How did Peter and Sarah get so catastrophically lost? They weren't traveling far, and Kuwait City didn't look that big, crowded or confusing. They must have been traveling in circles for hours! Wouldn't you stop and get a better map, or better directions, or something? Was all that confusion just bad karma for claiming a disability-related health crisis to help them get on a flight? Could be. Anyway, while I was mildly surprised to see Peter and Sarah pull the old "First to Worst" and get eliminated at this point in the race, I was not at all surprised that they'd already broken up by the time Phil delivered the bad news. I was very surprised that Sarah exercised enough restraint to refrain from calling Peter an asshole on national television. Because clearly that's what she thinks of him, and clearly, that's pretty much what he is. I found them strange as individuals and icky as a couple, so I won't miss them.

Sunday conversations

I'm sitting at the kitchen table, drinking coffee and reading the paper. Henry's playing with his train set. For fun I say, "Here's what my horoscope says, Henry", and read it out loud. His reply:

"This is what my horseybook says: 'Go to the farm, Mr. Horsey!'"

Good advice, that.

Trial and Hairror

I don't have a regular hairstylist in Ottawa. This is a problem. Over the past year I've been playing the haircut equivalent of Russian Roulette, booking appointments at random salons based on little more than a name or decor that pleases me. It worked out okay for awhile. I didn't meet "the one," a stylist I wanted to commit to long-term, but I didn't get butchered, either. Well, my luck was bound to run out eventually. A few weeks ago I spun the cylinder and booked an appointment at a certain salon because they have a nice website. The loaded chamber locked in and Bam! I walked out of the place with a haircut that looks and feels like an ill-fitting wig.

To the untrained eye, the current mess probably doesn't look that much different from my usual style (such that it is), but to me, it's all wrong. It's choppy where it should be blendy, blendy where it should be choppy. It zigs where it should zag, and puffs in awkward places. It's as if I'd instructed the hairdresser to locate and emphasize every little cowlick that curses my mangy mane, and throw in elements of a classic bowl cut while she was at it. Honestly, I think I could have gotten a better result if I'd shaved my head and stuck clumps of hair back to my scalp with double-sided tape.

So now I'm trying to decide if I should just try to live with it for awhile, or get most of it cut off and start all over again. Sigh. The aspirations I have for my hair are so modest. I know better than to hand the hairstylist a cover shot of Reece Witherspoon and expect to walk out of the salon looking like a Hollywood starlet. No, all I want is to grow my hair long enough so I can have the quasi-style every other mom in my area has: shoulder length with wispy bangs, pulled back in a pony tail 85% of the time. Is that too much to ask? Maybe by this time next year, I'll have it worked out. In the meantime, I'm strangely grateful that hat season is almost upon us here in the Great White North. No one expects you to have a hairstyle in January.

And no, I'm not posting a picture.

Amazing Race: A Steve Irwin tribute gone terribly dull

Seriously--who knew that wrestling an alligator or crocodile or whatever that reptile was could be so tame? The detours in this ep were pretty meh, but I thought all the travel was great, especially everyone's various, ever-changing flight itineraries. Also, while I know the Junkies are, like, ex-junkies, I never thought we'd hear about their former exploits in such vivid detail. It's not every day that you turn on the TV at 8 p.m. and hear some guy talking about his days shooting heroin in the gutter. Sigh. Family hour takes yet another hit (Pun not intended, but recognized).

I'm beginning to think that "Ivy League Grads" Erwin and Godwin are one of the dumbest teams this show has ever seen. Well, maybe not the dumbest, but they sure do lack common sense. First, there was their brilliant decision in the opening leg to shoot their fellow racers with water guns. . . in the airport. Is it just me, or are airport security types a bit touchy about guns--even plastic guns--these days? I bet if it wasn't for the camera crew they would have been bounced out of Sea-Tac on their asses. And this week we witness another boneheaded stunt, namely the hi-larious fake phone gag. Yes, it was funny to watch creepy Peter squirm when he overheard the brothers "booking" tickets with the phone. Funny until Peter had a brainflash and borrowed a real cell phone to book actual plane tickets. Now that was funny. So, smooth move, WINners. Way to stay ahead of the competition. From now on, their official motto is, "Joke's on us!"

Besides their backfiring practical jokes, the WINners missed an opportunity to bring some strategy to a game where it's hard to do much in terms of manipulating your opponents in a way that helps you gain an advantage (Whatever you do, you still have to beat them to the finish line). That said, I think the WINners had a chance to hurt a strong team by helping the two weakest teams. The Hillbillies and the Moms are not serious threats to win. The other remaining teams have a decent shot at it, and the WINners are looking pretty middle-of-the-pack within this group. So they should do what they can to keep the weak links in the race long enough to knock out a couple strong teams.* Thinning the heard, if you will. Sharing flight info with the weak links would be a great place to start such a strategy. Sharing that same information with teams that are a legit threat to beat you in any given leg is a quick (and stupid) way to finish your strategy. In short--start using your so-called brains, boys. You're likable enough guys, but I have a hard time rooting for stupid players.

As for the rest of the race, too bad the Hillbillies missed a golden opportunity to put the Junkies behind the 8-ball (pun totally intended this time). If only they'd done the alligator thingy! Oh well. I think the new rules for a non-elimination last place finish is an improvement over the "lose your money and your stuff" rule that never seemed like much of a setback. The penalty is strong enough to create urgency and tension, but not so bad that it will be impossible to overcome. At least that's how I hope it works. I always enjoy the agonizing countdown as someone waits out a finish line penalty.

*Yes, I know it was a non-elimination leg, so even if ErWIN and GodWIN hadn't shared information with the Beauty Queens, Sarah and Creepy Peter nothing would have come of it, but the principle still holds true: Help people who can't hurt you. Leave everyone else to their own devices!

Things that go "arf" in the night

We were awoken at 6 a.m. this morning by the sound of barking. Well, not barking exactly--it was Henry/Puddles (his cuddle toy) making barking noises. Arf arf arf arf arf. I had to laugh. Not because of the barking per se, which was funny enough. No, I laughed because, yet again, my parenting skills had been overmatched by my child's ingenuity and emerging language skills.

Here's the back story: Over the last few nights we suspect that Henry's been having dreams about scarecrows. Not quite nightmares, because he doesn't wake up crying or scared, but he's definitely got scarecrows on the brain. The woman across the street recently constructed an autumn display featuring a couple of craft-store scarecrows, and Henry is fascinated with them. Every night before bath he asks us to take him across the street to see the scarecrows. He shines his flashlight on them for a minute or so, then we go home and get ready for bed.

Perhaps not coincidentally, we've endured a lot of night waking over the past week (What, you mean shining a flashlight in the face of a creepy inanimate object right before bed might be unsettling for your toddler? --ed.). The night before last, Henry was awake from 3:30 to 5 a.m., and no amount of cuddling or back rubs could get him to close his eyes. As you may imagine, this is crazy-making for us. So when we were putting him to bed last night, I asked Henry why he woke up the night before. I didn't expect real answers, but he said, "There are scarecrows coming into my room." Ah-ha. And here's where the A+ parenting kicks in.

"Sweetie, there are no scarecrows in your room. The friendly scarecrows stay outside." Then I played my brilliant trump card: "If the scarecrows do come into your room, Puddles will start barking. If Puddles (the toy dog he sleeps with, remember) isn't barking, that means there are no scarecrows to worry about." Slam. Dunk. Puddles can't bark. There will be no barking. Henry will be reassured that there are no scarecrows in his room. Brilliant. I was so proud of my grownup powers of reasoning and trickery. The problem is licked, I thought.

Then it was 6 a.m. The sun broke weakly over the horizon. And "Puddles" started barking a greeting to the scarecrows in Henry's room. Arf arf arf arf arf. Imagination trumps reason, and it was yet another very early start to our day.

We're not going to visit the scarecrows tonight.

Yes, I'm still watching The Amazing Race

. . . and enjoying it a lot, I must say. I'm glad the producers were able to read my reviews of last season and take steps to address my complaints about how candyass easy the race had become. No more! This crop of teams is really being put through the grinder physically. Either the dreaded "ascender" or a detour involving mad paddling on open water would be a lot for one day. Doing both back-to-back looked grueling. I wasn't surprised to see people crying from exhaustion at the end of it. And the whole, "navigate your way through a foreign country" element has been ramped back up. Hopefully we're done with last season's "Race as Guided Tour" method of herding everyone onto staggered charter buses whenever they had to go overland. As long as they keep it up with the suspect local transportation, Soviet-era pseudovehicles, and cab drivers of wildly varying quality, I'll be happy.

Since the race itself has been so fun to watch, and the locales so stunning, I'm just starting to get a handle on the racers. And I suspect the teams I've become the most attached to are pretty much doomed, especially if the race's current intensity is maintained. So, enjoy them while they last:

David and Mary: I like them. I see why the casting director looked beyond their bad teeth and put them on the show. They have depth (by reality show standards), heart, and open minds. Most importantly, they don't hesitate to turn the bicker up to 11 when things get even moderately tough. I hope they can stick around for a few more weeks.
Dustin and Kandice: Is Dustin her real name? Why would you give your daughter such a blatantly masculine name? Why not Butch? Arnold? Come to think of it, I once met a woman named Douglas. It's weird. I'll let it go, however, because I like watching scheming, sneaky, line-cutting beauty queens at work. All that, and they threw in the waterworks of shame when they messed up the detour and all seemed lost. Pure gold.
Lyn and Karlyn: Are they doing it for their kids? I thought I heard one of them mention that they're doing it all for their kids, but I could be wrong.
Peter and Sarah: Peter's watching from home, thinking, "Dammit, I got villain editing. I was going for inspirational, and they stuck me with the villain editing. Me! No fair!" And Sarah's watching from home, thinking, "I can't believe I ever dated that tool. Wow--am I crying again?"

Yep, it doesn't look good for these teams. Just a few more detours requiring upper body strength, the weak will fall away, and we'll be watching the two teams of young, strong guys battle it out for the money, along with that rageaholic young guy who'll be dragging his rageaholic girlfriend across the finish line while she calls him names.

Yep, I bet Tyler and James are already planning the bender that's going to start about 7 minutes after they find a payday loan store in Midtown that will cash a giant check for a million dollars.

Busy week, beautiful weekend

A week ago today I was on my way home from a 72-hour round trip to Virginia. I drove the whole way there and back by myself. It was tiring, but in a weird way I actually enjoy long road trips. Lord knows I've done enough of them in my life. In fact, 12 hours in a single day is pretty tame. Madison, WI to New Orleans was a killer. Madison to Columbia, SC was agony, especially since my traveling companions were dull. Did the same trip a year later with a different crew and had a blast. I have unhappy memories of a trip from Madison to Lawrence, KS, which was a measly 9 hours but was undertaken in a Ford Aspire, one of those old school tin shitbox economy cars with aerodynamics so poor you can't hear the tape deck from the back seat, which was so butt-numbingly uncomfortable I could only conclude that it was constructed out of flour sacks and packing peanuts swept up from the Ford factory floor. Those are the kinds of trips the college ultimate season throws at you. I won't even get into the numerous "let's drive to Los Angeles!" family vacation extravaganzas I enjoyed as a child. You get the idea.

ANYWAY, 24 hours of driving in three days was enough to leave even a road warrior like myself pretty burned out for a busy week of stuff. None of it terribly significant, just lots of it. Hence no posts. We're back on track now, enjoying a long weekend (yes, Canadian Thanksgiving is here again) of absolutely perfect fall weather. Today we ventured out to Gatineau Park for a nature walk. The sun was shining, trees were in full autumn color, and the temperature made it near 70 degrees. Henry loved following the trail and venturing of the path to explore rock formations and frolic in the leaves. Photos here.