Tarzan is not Real


I saw him, running in the jungle.  I heard him: he belted out a prolific call, flying all over the jungle.  The animals, apparently, took note.  “When Tarzan calls, the Wild Kingdom listens.”  When Tarzan would step off a limb of a high tree, his hands gripped on to a rope-vine, and then swing through the trees … it was one of the most amazing things I have ever seen.  When I was a kid, I climbed trees quite a bit.  But I never, not once, came across a rope-vine!  To this day, I am so disappointed that I didn’t get to swing in the trees.  At some point, I became aware of other responsibilities / cool things beyond climbing trees.  Girls, I realized, were good looking, and they did catch my eye.  I appreciated Tarzan because he had a good-looking babe with him most of the time.  Jane.  That was her first name.  I guess her last name would have been “Tarzan”, yeah?   (Image from http://old.bfi.org.uk/sightandsound/review/5308)

With Jane and Tarzan living in the jungle, limited income, Jane didn’t have any money to spend on clothes, and that explained the clothes that did not do a thorough job of keeping her warm.   I never went out with any girls that were dressed like Jane.  If I did, my parents would have found out about it and I would have been in some serious trouble. At some point, I found out that Tarzan is not real.  Tarzan was an alias for a gentleman by the name of Johnny Weissmuller.  Here’s a thought:  Does this look like Tarzan?  Sharp looking guy (below), I must admit. But, with all due respect, Mr. Weissmuller, you are definitelynot … Tarzan. Life can be a jungle.  And in this jungle, there is no Tarzan.  There are no rope-vines to swing on, from tree to tree.  I’ve seen some beautiful women, and I am married to one of them.  But there is  no Jane.  And finally, I’m okay with it.


What If I Was a Blogger in a Submarine movie?

Imagination … flying in like humming birds, and I am in the midst of something I did not expect.

Such imagination can be fun, good for a writer’s brain; and it shakes off the mediocrity.

So, there I was, up on the Conn of the Red October. Captain Ramius is trying to defect.  Russian planes, ships, and subs, are out to destroy Ramius and his sub, the Red October.  A Russian torpedo, incoming!  Ramius and Jack Ryan (CIA) both have serious poker faces.  Things are pretty tense.  Here is a glimpse of the conversation that is happening:

Capt. Vasili Borodin: Torpedo impact, 20 seconds.

Captain Ramius: [to Ryan] What books?

Jack Ryan: Pardon me?

Captain Ramius: What books did you write?

Jack Ryan: I wrote a biography of, of Admiral Halsey, called “The Fighting Sailor”, about, uh, naval combat tactics…

Captain Ramius: I know this book!

Capt. Vasili Borodin: Torpedo impact…

Captain Ramius: Your conclusions were all wrong, Ryan…

Capt. Vasili Borodin: …10 seconds.

Captain Ramius: …Halsey acted stupidly.

The orders Captain Ramius has given had brought about an evasive maneuver, and the torpedo missed it’s mark.  Captain Ramius looked at me,

“And you, an eccentric?  You are known as … ‘T’?  Change your name, T, and be famous with me and Jack Ryan.  Do you write books?”

“I am finishing up my first book.  More importantly, I read other books written by good authors, but only when I am not on top-secret missions aboard submarines.”

The whole idea of living, working, sleeping, fighting, below the surface of the sea taps the curiosity of many.  Submarines fighting the bad guys means stealth.  Secret missions are at the core of what they do.  I read an article “War Is Boring/An American Submarine Just Slipped Under The Arctic Ice” / https://medium.com/war-is-boring/an-american-submarine-just-slipped-under-the-arctic-ice-627d050dd4 

Sometime apparently in August 2013, the U.S. Navy’s nuclear-powered attack submarine USS Seawolf eased out of the port of Bremerton, in Washington State …

A month later the U.S. Sixth Fleet, in charge of ships in European waters, posted a series of photos to the Website Flickr depicting the U.S. ambassador to Norway, Barry White, touring the 350-foot-long Seawolf pierside at Haakonsvern naval base … in southern Norway. Thousands of miles from Washington State.

How Seawolf got to Norway—and what she might have done en route—offer a rare and tantalizing glimpse into some of the most secretive quarters of the most poorly understood aspects of American naval power.

For it seems

Seawolf traveled to Norway

along a path rarely taken … 

underneath the Arctic ice.

The picture, below is of a different submarine … not the Seawolf … in the Arctic:
The Connecticut, a U.S. Navy submarine in the Arctic
 As human beings some of us are more “submerged” than others.  Writers, poets, painters, at times, lean toward being submerged.  It’s part of the creative process.  And when we write, we make decisions, sometimes difficult decisions, about what to “release” to the readers, and what  to hold back: thus, secrets.  The secrets may be nothing more than data we hold back because we don’t want to bore the reader, or because we have a goal about how many words we will use.  Other times, the “unsaid” is profound, and paradoxical.  
Well, now you know what it could look like … if I was a blogger in a submarine movie.  Pretty exciting.