Commander Cream #11

If all goes well, I'll respond to TKO #10 on Sunday, too.



I hate Martha Stewart. She played a trick on all Americans: and I’m not talking about ImClone and insider trading. No, Martha just set the bar that much higher. She wasn’t just a mother, chef and author. She was also a savvy businesswoman who rose up from her middle-class roots and built herself an empire. Martha did it all, and she did it with style, grace and her own television show. I will never run a multi-million dollar corporation, sew seat covers on television, or (hopefully) be indicted for security fraud. But there are goals I want to accomplish: some of them may be as unlikely as living up to Martha Stewart’s example.

I want to run with the bulls in Pamplona. I want to run from Marathon, Greece, to Athens, Greece. But first, I want to get into good enough shape that I won’t follow the example of the first marathoner and die when I reach Athens.

I want to repel down the Grand Canyon and then climb back up. I want to cliff-dive in Denmark. I want to avoid a repeat of my last trip to the hospital when I unintentionally combined the two by cliff-diving (not into water) and being forced to climb back up.

I want to really build a place I can call home. I have a fairly large herb garden right now. It accompanies me on my cheerfully nomadic life. I want to find somewhere I can feel comfortable enough to transplant my garden permanently.

I want to taste giant water bug in Thailand and monkey brain in India. I’ve already tried haggis, black pudding and tripe. I hope that the bugs and brains taste better.

Someday, probably not for a couple of years, I would like to ski again. I would like to be comfortable enough with my past and a friend’s accident that I can overcome my fears. By the same token, someday I would like to comfortably to ride a horse. There are some fears that I would like to overcome.

For once in my life, I would like to really succeed. Succeed without qualifiers and on my own merits. This remains nebulous in my own mind even as I write this, but I want a victory that I can call my own; a victory that would earn me the right to call myself a Cream.

I want to write a book. I doesn’t have to be a great book, it just has to be a book that I would be proud to sign Commander Cream. Well, scratch that: I want a book that I would be proud to sign {censored}.

I want to swim through the kelp forests off the coast of California. I want to swim among sharks in Australia. I want to swim with pink river dolphins in Brazil.

With all the traveling I hope to do, I want to be able to communicate. Mastering Spanish, German and Chinese would be a good start. Well, to be fair, mastering English would be an even better start. I want to travel the world and never need a translator.

And I want to find someone I trust enough to share the adventure.



I hope that my eulogy will mostly consist of people saying “Commander Cream: she lived her life. I’m amazed she survived.”



…yes, that’s ironic…




Actually, that’s not strictly true. I plan to tape record my own eulogy in advance. I guess that will have to be my epitaph.