Man vs. Bull

August 22nd, 2009: Sitting high up in an arena, I look down and see a man standing in the center…a flamboyant man in his tight red pants with his pink cape strutting around the ring as if he was some hero, calling himself a matador. Staring at him from 12 feet away, stands a massive bull…heavily breathing with steam literally bellowing from his nostrils as blood flows down his back. He charges the matador as he quickly steps aside, the crowd yelling, “ole!” The bull does a series of passes, unfortunately failing to gore the man.

At the final stage of this execution, the matador pointed his sword at the bull…aiming the cold piece of steel that is about to skewer the gargantuan piece of meat, attempting to place the blade between it clavicles and through the aorta. The large crowd of adults, kids and babies becomes silent as if they all simultaneously had their larynx ripped out of their throats as they wait for the final blow. The matador lunges toward the exhausted animal, impaling the sword into its back, missing the sweet spot thus prolonging the bull’s death. The bull stands there, looking at him with a sword in its back as blood is dripping down his body…thinking, “I just wanted to stay out in the field today, why are you doing this to me?”

The matador was beginning to grasp that he has poor aim and the bull was not going to go down. Minutes go by as the sword begins to work itself free. He grabs another sword from behind the wooden wall and flips the ineffective sword out. Again he plunges the sword in its back, as the bull still does nothing. The Matador is no longer strutting around the crowd as people leak noises of disappointment. I was hoping he practiced Japanese traditions, realizing he embarrassed his family tonight and would turn the sword onto himself. At this point, even the blood thirsty crowd wanted the animal to be put out of its misery.

After being stabbed in the back not just once but three times this evening, the bull that must have been in excruciating pain, as he finally drops to its knees. The matador’s assistant quickly went up to the disorientated bull and drove a knife in the back of its head, rotating it…letting the bull go back to the field he was pulled from and to his friends that were about to join him after their barbaric execution.

More today than any day, I wanted to see a man get gored by the bull. Not a grazing wound that would cause a minor injury or major scar…I wanted to see the bull hit the matador so hard, that he too would join the bull in that field.

The greatest show on earth?

August 21st, 2009: The white lights dim as bass is being thrown out of the speakers that circle the center ring. Red lights are casted down from great heights directing on these three scantily dressed women that came out from behind a plastic tarp dancing in a provocative manner. Hideously out of sync – they reminded me of a child’s first dance recital…but who needs to be in sync when you are wearing 4 inch heels, a green sequence g-string bottom and top that was more like oversized pasties for their large plate sized nipples. Feeling like I was visiting a strip club, I wanted to make my way up to the front of the ring with some dollar bills…to help pay for their well needed dance classes. Unfortunately the front row was already filled with…children, since I was at the circus…which was once upon a time, known as the greatest show on earth.

Throughout the night, sock packing men and women in spandex supporting highly groomed eyebrows and wearing freshly applied Tammy Faye Bakker-style makeup jobs, were performing acts that could be done by any highly impaired street performer. The performances were not spectacular, great, breathtaking or anything but hilarious. Unfortunately since this was not their intent, I could only suck my checks in, painfully biting deep into my flesh to prevent me from laughing at what I was witnessing.

When it was time for the big event, my short term memory quickly helped me forgot about the prior performances. I anxiously leaned forward on the bench trying to get inches closer to see…the great white tiger. The music was turned up to obviously muffle what everyone was about to say when out from behind the tarp staggered a small sickly looking animal. Trying to increase my vision by squinting, it did nothing but increase my imagination. The white striped creature slowly moved around the ring on a leash and at times dropped to its back, not moving at all. The children who clearly disregarded the purpose of the seats, stood there starring at this ill creature from the edge of the ring…silent. Right before the children were at the brink of tears, it was at that moment, the clown pulled off its costume revealing that it was a white tiger…born in a poodle’s body. I was disappointed that I didn’t see a white tiger but happier that it wasn’t one.

What happened to the circus…in all countries, not just in South America? When growing up they were amazing! They had real tigers, elephants, clowns and acts that what would steal your breath. Did PETA destroy the circus? Or could it be that affordable laser hair removal has made it almost impossible to see a bearded lady at the circus sideshow? Just like the rusty rides that sat outside the big top tonight…the circus is dying. It now draws of a bunch of bottom feeders claiming it will bring back a piece of your youth, but ultimately failing me each and every single time…until one day, I too will give up on what use to be…the greatest show on earth.

Now who said carnival rides are not safe?

August 21st, 2009: Standing in a dusty field next to the Pacific Ocean, my eyes rested on a rusty metal ride called the Ring of Fire. The metal was bent, twisted and seemed to be held together by some plastic bolts that were apparently made by Fisher Price. At the top of the ride, flaps a tattered U.S. flag, resembling the one that the Marines and Navy Corpsman famously raised during the battle of Iwo Jima. Clearly, the U.S. safety standards for carnival rides must have displaced this vehicle of entertainment to our southern neighbor years ago.

Walking around the carnival, I felt as if I jumped in my DeLorean with a flux capacitor and was taken back in time. Noticing the Toboggan ride, artistically this could resemble an expensive piece of modern art which has not yet been discovered. Until this happens, it is merely an antique seeming to be more terrifying now, than when it was new and fully functional. I am not sure if it was because of the eerie sounds that the ride made when the people were being lifted to great heights or if it was when the cart spun down the rusty metal rails, failing to make it up the last dip without the assistance of the operator…needing to push it up before the trialing cart collided into the other ones, creating a pile up or possible derailment.

To me, it seemed that there was a lot of potential work for a highly skilled carny mechanic. Never the less, I was proud to see that the U.S. companies who sold the rides were being conscience about the need to recycle in addition to helping…curb overpopulation in selected cities of Ecuador by the convenience of, accidents. Who said Corporate America is not doing its part to making this world a better place?

Whales love tuna

August 18th, 2009: My eyes were closed as my mind placed myself in another place to prevent myself from joining the others as tuna was projected off the boat and back into the sea after being held captive in their stomachs for most of the day. The ocean was producing some extraordinary waves tossing us around as we attempted to make our way back to the mainland from the Isle de la Plata after a tour seeing all of the amazing wildlife.

Wanting to see if the waves somehow miraculously evaporate, I slowly opened my eyes. As soon as my eyes fully opened, a humpback whale bought her 79,000 pounds of blubber out of the water as it breached right next to our boat. Everyone seemed to gasp, even those who were ever so kindly baiting the whales with their very own tuna scented vomit.

After taking about 200 photos of missed whale shots as they would quickly rise from the water for air and go back under, I decided to just observe what was taking place and leave the fading memories up my brain.