Killer Whales and Kindness

Sunday the Kiddo and I escaped to Sea World for one of our Mommy & Son bonding days full of sharks, sandboxes, and, of course, Shamu. We have had annual passes since the Kiddo was not even two, and although we cannot go nearly as much as we used to due to school schedules, we cherish these days of fun and learning.

Our local news has been in an uproar over the death of a Killer Whale trainer last month at Sea World. The press has been playing a vicious blame game with Sea World, accusing them of unsafe working conditions, animal maltreatment and exploitation. Now OSHA and PETA are also going after them, and even Capitol Hill is supposedly holding a hearing Tuesday to determine if marine mammals should be held in captivity.

Amidst all this unnecessary brouhaha, I made it a priority to see Believe, the current orca show which highlights not only the majesty of these animals but their integral relationships with their trainers. I have seen the show dozens of times over its 4-year run, and it is always different. Some days the whales were ON, seemingly feeding off the audience's energy, amazing me with their synchronized jump, flips, and splashes. Other days they seemed distracted or perhaps a bit lazy, showing off only a few behaviors, yet still delighting the crowds of first-time watchers. I love it, no matter what they do. Just to be in their proximity is enough. I secretly yearn to be one of the lucky trainers in the water with these awe-inspiring creatures, communicating with them, stroking their shiny skin, feeling their power, their intelligence, their affection.

Sea World trainers during the Believe show May 2009.

The changes in the show we witnessed Sunday were drastic. The trainers were no longer allowed in the water with the orcas (which was the main component of the show) and they had to stay several feet back from the water even when feeding them. The "show" element did not disturb me however, but the lack of physical attention these animals were now receiving saddened me. They are used to getting rub downs, hugs, tongue scratches and genuine affection from their trainers and now it was being forcefully withheld from them. I always believed that the attention, affection, and positive rewards that they received was one of the main reasons they tolerated captivity.

Later that day, we walked around to the rear of Shamu Stadium to the underwater viewing tank. Some days we are lucky and one or more of the whales would be swimming around in the rear tank and we would see them only a few feet away from us. I saw a glimpse of black passing by so the Kiddo and I ran down for a closer look. Kiddo was up right against the glass when the whale swam by and bumped the glass.

Now, when a creature weighing several tons "bumps" anything, it is a bit forceful and quite a surprise. Everyone crowded around the window jumped back a little and gave an amazed laugh. The whale came back again, and bumped a bit harder. When it circled back the next time, it paused directly in front of Kiddo and opened it's mouth wide before moving on. Even though there was a thick glass, I clamped onto him and gave a very nervous laugh. A visitor behind us asked Kiddo if the whale had any cavities, because he sure saw ALL her teeth. We stayed there for one more loop of the tank and window bump before I decided I had enough. This was not normal behavior. It seemed aggressive, and thought we were perfectly safe, I was uncomfortable.

We started to leave when I spotted the employee usually stationed at the viewing area to educate guests and answer questions. I casually asked, "What's up with the glass bumping? I've been here dozens of times and never seen that." She gave a very nervous laugh, pasted a fake smile on her face, and said she had never seen it either. She had just called the behavior in to the trainers. Maybe the whale had a toothache and was trying to get someone's attention. She was obviously trying to communicate something, but what?

I left feeling very sorry for these orcas and the people that love them.

Not because these whales and other animals live here in captivity. I firmly believe that Sea World does an outstanding job of caring for their animals and educating the masses about the wonders of these creatures. No, their lives are not the same as if they were in the wild. Many of the animals in the park have been rescued from certain death in the wild, and if possible they are rehabilitated and released.

Each person that has the opportunity to see one of these magnificent animals (which they would never have the chance to see in the wild) leaves with a better understanding, a greater appreciation, and a heart more willing to help protect them and the conserve their environment. There is just no comparison between watching a nature show on t.v. versus actually seeing a dolphin, making eye contact, watching it frolic and play (sometimes with real toys) to gain an understanding and respect for these amazing mammals. The few kept in captivity are essentially ambassadors for their species.

OSHA and the press need to chill on their witch hunt as well. They are treating the trainers as if they are children who don't know they are playing with fire and that fire can burn. No one becomes a killer whale trainer without knowing the inherent dangers of the job. It is not a career one chooses because they are tired of flipping burgers. It is a passion, a lifestyle, chosen by compassionate and intelligent individuals whose love for these animals overshadows the risks involved. The bond between the animals and their trainers has now been stretched, and all parties are suffering.

Perhaps that is what she was trying to tell us...with all of the bureaucratic bumbling, please show us some kindness and don't forget what we need...

Have wine, will travel...

As I was stuck in the carpool line this morning with only the annoyingly chatty radio morning show hosts to keep me company, I actually heard them mention something that caught my attention: a wine purse for "box" wine. Now, I do consider myself to be a a connoisseur of cheap wine, and many, uh, boxes of wine have tickled my palate. It's not ALL Franzia White Zin anymore, thankfully. There are actually some decent ones out there such as Black Box, or Banrock Station.

As soon as I got home this morning I had to check it out.
Although most wine lovers believe boxed wine to be the epitome of gaucheness, I think this Baggy Winecoat from Scandinavian Design Center is absolutely brilliant.

You simply take the bag of wine out of its box (so technically it's "bagged" wine anyway), insert in the chic little black bag, and voila, the perfect wine tote and dispenser. Imagine the "ooohhhs" after you set your little black bag down on the table at your next soiree or picnic, grab a glass, and start dispensing some stylish Shiraz.

I'm hoping the next version will come with a little bit of room to carry a cell phone and lipstick as well. Leave it to those ingenious Scandinavians...I adore them for giving me IKEA, but this takes the cake.

I also stumbled upon The Wine Rack--perfect for any wine loving woman seeking not only an easy way to tote her vino, but an enhanced bustline as well.

It's a little bit Victoria's Secret crossed with Animal House perhaps, but it could be fun and practical. Instead of paying the exorbitant going rate for beer at sporting events and concerts (for wine is rarely even offered), you now can have an enticingly clever method of bringing in your own. Hopefully the ushers will be so distracted by your new found cleavage they wouldn't even imagine it was enhanced with contraband.

So, if you're looking for a stylish sports bra that can turn your A cup into a D and can hold 750 ml of your favorite beverage, this model is only $29.95 at BaronBob.com.

Yes, I may be a smidge offended if the Hubby gave me one of these wrapped up for Mother's Day now, but how I wish I had one of these back in college...

A Musical Education

I have never allowed my Kiddo to listen to “children's” music. I find the very existence of the genre detrimental to the development any type of true musical taste. We do not own a single Kidz-Bopped, Disneyfied, or Nick Jr-ized CD or mp3 in our entire collection. Barney makes my ears bleed. The Wiggles CD we were given somehow disappeared into the garbage before it could contaminate our player. Radio Disney does not exist in our world.

I have pondered why people insist that their kids listen to choruses of prepubescent Brittany-wannabes do covers of songs like “Your Mother Should Know” or "Can't Buy Me Love." Are the Beatles original versions (from back in the day when when they were shiny and clean cut) going to harm their kids in some way? It's bubble-gum pop at it's finest without any of the over-produced junior glee club revamp.

Seriously?

Most, if not all, moms I know only let their kids listen to this crap. And they will wonder why, in a few years, their kids will rebel and turn into one of the white-bread, gansta rapping minions. They never had a chance to listen to REAL music, to explore the vast options with their listening taste-buds.

My Kiddo has had a pretty wide education: from classical to classic rock, old wave, new wave, modern rock, reggae, and a little heavy metal and jazz thrown in to balance things out. We have elected to skip the classes in hip-hop and country (with the exception of the Black Eyed Peas and the Dixie Chicks, but they don’t really count anyway) because, well, we are hoping those genres are just a passing blip in musical evolution. We also have omitted ANYONE who was on American Idol...just not going there.

When the Kiddo turned four, his favorite song was “The Streetlight Song” a.k.a. “Long Road to Ruin” by the Foo Fighters. He would beg me to play it over and over again, pounding his little fists on the sides of his carseat to the drum beat, singing his little heart out. Who cares if he was singing the wrong words. He was very jealous when the hubby and I went to see the Foos in concert (which was an absolutely awesome show, but more on that perhaps another time). His tastes then progressed to Coldplay and he had the entire Viva la Vida album memorized two days after it was released. He was once again jealous when the Hubby and I saw them live.

I began to notice a growing trend. Parents were bringing their kids to concerts, something that never happened when we were growing up. At the Greenday show, we were pleasantly amazed to find 8-year-olds with their hair punked out and sprayed green walking hand in hand with their parents. During the concert, Billie Joe pulled a kid on stage with him to sing along with the band--how cool would that be! Considering the price of a concert ticket was LESS than the cost of a babysitter, I realized live shows were becoming a family event.

Last summer Coldplay was going to be making a return trip to sunny FLA, and since we didn’t have a (free) sitter available, we decided it might be the perfect time to introduce the Kiddo to the joys of live music. The tickets were bought and he was counting the days until the show…when it was canceled. Bummed was an understatement.

The Hubby and I journeyed to several more shows, deciding that they were a bit inappropriate for a preschooler. Jane’s Addiction with Nine Inch Nails wasn’t exactly fitting, although it was much tamer than we ever imagined. Dave Matthews…nah...I was not ready to give up my freedom to dance (and drink) at that show to be on Mom Duty. We made promises that he would get to go to a concert with us one of these days.

Now the perfect opportunity has been dangled in front of us. Sir Paul McCartney will be performing one of his four U.S. shows just a few hours away. Seeing him has been on my Concert Bucket List since…well, since I was 6. After glancing at Sir Paul’s recent set lists, we bit the bullet, pulled out the AMEX, and bought three lower bowl seats. I find it fitting that the Kiddo’s introduction to live music shall begin with musical royalty. He has always listened to the Beatles (and his favorite T-shirt now sports the Fab Four) but we have just a few days to shore up his musical education. There are probably a few Wings gaps that must be filled in as well.

The iPod is loaded, the bags are almost packed, the anticipation is building…Miami and Sir Paul, here we come!