9. Feed the Tarpon

After I told the folks at Dolphin Cove about my blog, they immediately said, "Feed the tarpon at Robbies!" Apparently, Robbie's Bayside is known as THE place to feed tarpon. The way it works is that you buy a bucket of fish and then join the crowd on the dock as they feed the crowd of tarpon in the water.

One more thing. "Take off your rings and watches," we were warned by the dolphin trainers. "Those tarpon are quick." I assured them we'd take off our jewelry and off we went to Robbies.

Actually, those tarpon were BIG. Huge! They looked anywhere from four to six feet long, glittering green in the dappled sunlight as they came in for a hand-fed meal. There were hundreds of them schooling underneath the docks, and so I settled down with my bucket to feed them, holding my hand about a foot from the water (after, of course, removing my jewelry) and watched as a hungry tarpon headed my way.

8. See the HGTV Dream House

Okay, this is a loose interpretation of 50 New Things. Technically, I didn't tour it, I just saw an HGTV Dream House for the first time.

After entering EVERY SINGLE DAY during the time the contest was conducted, I didn't win the darned thing. Hence, I'm standing OUTSIDE the fence instead of INSIDE, with the key in my hand, looking out at disgruntled folks like me.

Intermission and tribute to a friend

I got an email the other day from someone who commented that it's been a while since I updated my blog. I've still been doing new things, but got sidetracked by the passing of close friend Sandi Way on May 3, 2008, and just haven't felt like writing til now. We became friends just after college, and shared many experiences in the almost 25 years of our friendship.

While I was in the Keys on my dolphin swim trip, Sandi was 'putting her affairs in order' as the saying goes. She had been diagnosed with leiomyosarcoma in August of 2005, which is a very rare form of cancer that forms in a muscle and had formed a tumor. What no one knew at the time was that although the doctors removed the tumor, the cancer had metasticized. For two years, Sandi maintained a lovely, gracious and upbeat attitude while undergoing surgeries, chemo and radiation. Unfortunately, none of the treatments were effective in sending her cancer into remission, and she became weaker, and required more frequent medical care.

The day before I left for the Keys, Sandi told me that she had made a decision to refuse further treatment, and was at peace with her approaching death. I called her one day while I was gone, and I heard her say something I hadn't heard before, from anyone. "The priest just left, and we planned my funeral." Huh???? That just sounded so strange to me. I mean, though the years, we'd talked about many topics: our work, dating, family; but never "I just planned my funeral."

She told me that since "O Holy Night" was her favorite hymn, she'd asked her Episcopal priest to include it as a solo. "He said 'no'', Sandi said, "He thought a funeral reflected more of an Easter-type feeling, more like a resurrection than a death."

"But isn't this YOUR show?" I blurted out, and Sandi joined me in laughter. I left organized religion long ago, and while I respect and enjoy the rituals of Sandi's church, I couldn't help but wonder at how important it was for a priest to 'follow the rules' and refuse a congregants last request. "Are you okay with that?", I asked. That was what really mattered, not my preferences and opinions. "Yeah, I see his point, and that's the way the church does things," she replied. "Sure you don't me to just bust out with O Holy Night anyway?" I asked, laughing. "No", she said, "I think I'll just ask the priest to sing it."

Now, funerals aren't the easiest events to attend. Sandi's was a little bit of a blur. One thing that stands out clearly was when the priest talked about the music we'd hear during communion. In tribute to Sandi's patriotism, the organist would play "God Bless America", followed by.....O Holy Night!

Is this too gloomy a post for a blog about new things? I debated about whether or not to include it, because it isn't about anything new, except for the funeral conversation part. I believe that every life has a purpose, no matter how long or how brief, and isn't life about growing and learning as much as anything? Sandi's loving, caring nature had a big effect on me, and since she's been gone, I want to find a way to carry on her legacy of kindness and generosity. So, perhaps this blog post is another way to remind me to do that. Now you know how special she was, too.

7. Dolphin Swim Part Three

Back on shore, I met Jessica, the trainer who was assigned to me, a tanned, attractive, friendly young woman who had been working with dolphins for several years. I followed her around to the platform from which we'd be working. As she stepped onto the platform with her bucket of fish, a silvery rostrum followed by sleek sides broke the surface of the natural lagoon. "Oh look, there's Nicky", Jessica said.

Nicky was 'my' dolphin for the next hour, a pink belly dolphin with freckles on her rostrum and according to Jessica and the rest of the staff, the "second-in-command diva", who was known for making her preferences quite clear. At about one-fifth of her weight, I was pretty willing to defer to her. This was her world and I was clear I was just a guest.

Jessica asked Nicky through hand signals to swim close to the platform, so that I could touch her and we could get used to each other. Jessica told me that the dolphins often get bored, and so she liked to vary the interactions and the tricks as much as she could.

First trick! Jessica asked me to swim out from the platform and cup my hands underneath my face. That was Nicky's cue to swim toward me and give me a 'kiss'. I have to admit that I was a little nervous, watching a 600 pound mammal zip toward me in the water at what looked like top speed. Amazingly, Nicky put on the brakes, and gently touched her nose to mine. Her rostrum felt warm and cold all at the same time, and felt the way that a leather chair might feel if you ran water over it. After this exercise, I realized that Nicky wasn't just running through her tricks, she was somehow taking my ability in the water into account.
We did a series of exercises that were all loads of fun. For one I floated on my back in the water, made sure my toes weren't pointed, and Nicky pushed me around the cove. For another, she brought a hula hoop for me and I held it to the side while she jumped through. We also did a 'handshake', where I hung vertically in the water with my hands about shoulder width, the way you'd look if you were describing how big a fish is, and Nicky zoomed toward me underwater. Suddenly, there she was, her flippers outstretched like hands reaching for my own, and we were face to face. In this position, I could see both her eyes at one time, and I could feel her long body brushing against mine, tail near my feet. What struck me then was the absolute intelligence in her eyes and power in those muscles.

I ended the afternoon just as pumped up as I could be--I felt like a little kid! It was an amazing experience, and I was very glad that I had taken the time to swim with the dolphins. And of course, I ended up buying the CD of photographs that the photographer took while Nicky and I were swimming. I wasn't going to, initially, but once I looked through them I went for it. I guess you could say I took the bait:-)

7. Dolphin Swim Part Two

I arrived at Dolphin Cove, a marine education and dolphin swim facility in Key Largo, Florida a half-hour before my scheduled time, a combination of anal-retentiveness and "oh-my-gosh-I-can't-wait-for-Christmas-and-I'm-about-to-meet-Flipper" excitement. I had signed up for the premier swim, and this is what was promised:

Premier Dolphin Swims begin with a 30-45 minute educational briefing aboard one of our Everglades tour boats. During this time you will be able to observe the unique beauty of our back country while learning about dolphin natural history, intelligence, anatomy, and important information about your upcoming dolphin encounter.Dolphin swims take place in our natural lagoon. Swimmers will take turns entering the water and participating in hands-on behaviors with our dolphins. All interaction is guided by a dolphin trainer, and one on one contact is guaranteed.

Alright! This was what I had wanted, to get up close and personal, even though the 'guided interaction' part seemed a bit restricted, the one-on-one sounded interesting.

I liked that the facility was very clean and well-maintained, as I believe that reflected management's attitude about the care of the dolphins themselves. As I waited impatiently for the boat ride in the covered waiting area, I noticed that there was a binder with photos of all of the dolphins, where each dolphin was named and described by personality and age. Now, I'm not the kind of person who attributes human traits to their animals/pets the way that some people do, but I have to admit that considering the dolphins I was about to meet as having names, jarred my thinking a bit. I guess I didn't think of them as having distinct personalities and preferences, but wasn't that what being sentient was all about? "Stay open-minded, stay open-minded", I told myself.

Finally, we got on the tour boat for our promised briefing. There were about ten of us who listened to a young dolphin trainer tell us about dolphin anatomy. I learned that their 'snout' is called a 'rostrum', and each one is like a fingerprint, with distinctive markings. So is their dorsal fin, with a unique shape and notches particular to each dolphin. Probably the most interesting thing I learned was how young dolphins nurse, since dolphins are mammals, give live birth and nurse their young just like us humans. But, where were the teats on a female dolphin? Surely having a nipple or two would cut down on the streamlining they need to zip through the water unencumbered?

Turns out that instead of teats, they have two slits about two thirds of the way down their body on the underside, and the baby dolphin is born with the ability to curl their tongue like a straw. While nursing, the baby sticks their curled tongue into one of the slits and slurps away. Voila! Baby dolphin dinner on-the-go.

All the dolphins at Dolphin Cove were trained to vocal commands, hand signals, and whistles. Our tour guide took us through the various guided interactions that we would be experiencing, and spent the last ten minutes training us on how to behave in the water. We'd be wearing buoyant life vests which would allow us to suspend upright in the water, which was a key part in some of the dolphin 'tricks'. For example, I was to hang in the water with my hands out to the sides, making a 't', with my thumbs pointed down. The dolphin would swim around behind me, pick a side, and place their dorsal fin in the web of my thumb. My part would be to just hang on as this was the dorsal fin ride I'd been imagining since my first "Flipper" show. I couldn't wait to meet my dolphin!

7. Swim with Dolphins

I'm guessing this desire started way back when I was a kid, watching the tv show 'Flipper', a show about an intelligent bottlenose dolphin who interacted with a park ranger and his two young sons. There are two scenes that I remember most vividly: one of Flipper 'laughing', with his head out of water and making squeaky 'ack-ack' dolphin sounds, and another of someone holding on to Flipper's dorsal fin and going for a ride. Flipper seemed so smart, a cross between a horse and a mermaid, and I wanted to meet a Flipper friend for myself.

Later, in my early adult years, as we learned more about dolphin intelligence, their use of echolocation, and their assistance of humans in distress, the question was raised: are humans the only sentient life on the planet? Was novelist Douglas Adams right when he wrote in 'So Long, and Thanks for All the Fish' that the dolphins were actually here to save us humans? Could it be that dolphin consciousness is equivalent to our own, with equivalent forms of communication, family and friend relationships and a sense of community? What would it be like to meet fin-to-face with one of these intelligent mammals? Would I experience a 'mystical meeting of souls' as one of my more metaphysically inclined friends had experienced? Or would I be transported back to my childhood frame of mind, playfully excited to just be in the water with my friend Flipper? I decided to do my best to leave pre-conceived notions behind, and just stay open to what happened.

6. Take time to stop and pet the wallaby

For the last couple of days I've been thinking about how 'I' am really just a collection of beliefs and behaviors that make up my idea of who and what 'Melinda' is. 'Tall', 'blonde', 'creative', 'nice person', 'helps friends', etc. Words like these define who I am but they also limit me, and this mission of mine is all about stretching those limits. What if I were someone who was known as 'brutally honest' instead of 'diplomatic'? What if I just let loose with my anger instead of watering it down? I remembered the feeling I had during an improv class I took from Alan Arkin a couple of years ago. After about the third class, I found myself really loosening up on the behaviors I allowed myself. I got raunchy, goofy, pushy, quiet, loud, depending on where the scene took me. In other words, I pushed myself out of my normal range of approved 'Melinda' behaviors and explored actions I hadn't allowed myself in years, if ever. I don't think it's any coincidence that I look on that weeklong class as magical, remembering that experience as being blissful and joyful in the way that children play. I saw the same look both in Alan's eyes and in the eyes of the other class members.

So, yesterday, I'm driving home past the elementary school in my neighborhood, and what do I see there on the front lawn but a baby kangaroo and other exotic animals surrounded by a group of school children.

"I want to go pet the kangaroo!" screamed my improv-ready inner child.

"You can't", my Limited Melinda explained calmly. "Grownups just don't waltz onto school grounds uninvited without setting off alarms, not in this day and age. People could think you're a stalker." and she showed a brief inner movie of an Angry Principal and an Embarrassed, Rejected, Melinda.

All of this happened in a nano-second, in barely the time it took me to drive another half-block. And I thought of 50 New Things. Isn't it as much about getting out of my usual habits of what I allowed myself to do as going skydiving? So what if they ask me to leave, isn't the point that I tried Something New? "I want to go pet the kangaroo!" I made a U-turn and headed back to the school, ready to color outside the lines for a change.

I parked and walked toward the group of school children who were gathered around several portable pens, trying to get a good look at the baby kangaroo in one of them. Suddenly, a little boy who looked to be about six years old came and gently took my hand.

"Want to feed him some grass?" I smiled at the innocent sweetness of his invitation, nodded and followed him over to a patch of clover. He very patiently explained to me that 'he eats this grass', pointing to the sweet clover, 'not that grass', pointing to the St. Augustine.

About this time I noticed a sturdy fellow in a Crocodile Dundee hat, with a Kiwi accent and a chameleon on his shoulder who joined us. "It's a wallaby, not a kangaroo." I had wondered why the kangaroo was so small--Honey, I shrunk the kangaroo. Oh, that's why, it was a wallaby. (I was amused to read the wiki entry on wallabys, the illustration was captioned, 'Red-necked' Wallaby'. Oh, native to Louisiana, that one?)

The wallaby, chameleon and the madagascar cockroaches in the nearby terrarium all were courtesy of Zoo-Zoom, "The Little Zoo on Wheels", a local exotic rescue and education organization. I watched as Mr. Chameleon playfully encouraged all the children to pet the animals, joyful as a child himself.

I didn't stay long, no Angry Principal materialized to shoo me off, in fact, no one even questioned my right to be there. I was glad I caught myself justifying an opportunity to pass on trying something new, because of imaginary fears, and even more glad that I acted on that impulse. As I drove away, I felt a tiny bit of the feeling I had during the improv class. Isn't this Who We Really Are? A playful, joyful, unlimited human who takes the time to stop and pet the wallaby?