Best Mobile Game EVER: Hungry Shark Evolution

I once worked in mobile games as a product manager. I was, and still am, the target demographic (female, 30's-40's, smartphone user, casual game player) for most of the games we made.  I really loved bringing games out that I myself would want to play too.

Since having children though, it's been hard to enjoy them. Time is really a factor now so I don't have much room for digital games in my life because of the sheer amount of "time-suckage."

But given my deep, abiding love of sharks, there are certain exceptions that will be made. Just yesterday I made the most wondrous discovery in the final throes of 2014: a gorgeously playable sharky mobile game called Hungry Shark Evolution.

I don't know what I love better, the beautiful graphics and responsive tilt functioning or getting to eat swimmers, cage divers(!) and fisherman as an enthusiastic Hammerhead shark. Oh and the Jellyfish, Angler Fish, Frat guy riding a Great White Shark and giant pissed-off crab can EAT ME--or at least try, B*tches.

I love this game, it came out two years ago (but to be fair, I had just had a baby) and it's made by a studio called Future Games of London--in my favorite international city about my most favorite animal on the planet. What's not to love? Well, I don't love all the interstitial ads, but I will put up with them because the game was free and I love it so much.  I have also seen there are shark finners you can eat for points too.  Oh the possibilities....

Thank you Future Games & Hungry Shark Evolution for making my 2014 "Shark-eriffic" all the way to the very end!

Elephant Sanctuary or Bust

Allow me to present clever Christmas Carols about sending Seattle's Woodland Park Zoo Elephants to a Sanctuary, arranged by Ken and the Friends of Woodland Park Zoo Elephants folks.

How did we get here, you ask?

Back in early 2010, my do-gooder husband happened upon a display at the Ballard Farmer's Market detailing The Friends of Woodland Park Zoo Elephants work about getting the three animals to a sanctuary. I would have never guessed in a million years that he would have taken up this cause. But in my old age, I am more often surprised than proven right when it comes to Ken.

By July of 2010, Ken produced an animated video succinctly detailing the exact plight of the Woodland Park Zoo Elephants and putting things in perspective.

Despite being Riveting, heartbreaking and obvious about what to do next, it seemed like the arguments of the elephant activists fell on deaf zoo board ears.

I must admit though, (and I can't believe I felt this way) the zoo was a great place to take young kids: amenities everywhere, it's fenced and enclosed, everyone loves to see animals and you get exercise walking around outside. I even had fond memories of going to the zoo myself as a child and I wanted my kids to have that too. But despite whatever nostalgic ideal I had in my mind, that was a selfish way to look at it and conveniently disregarded the animals themselves. I soon realized this.

Come 2012, rumors and rumblings surfaced that an unflattering article detailing the plight of the elephants would surface. And so it did. The Seattle Times published a damning expose' called Glamour Beasts about the Zoo's treatment of elephants and the quest to produce a newborn baby elephant. It's a gut-wrenching read and will make you feel simultaneously angry and guilty for ever patronizing a zoo. General opinion began to shift. In response, the Zoo incredulously dug in it's heels and started saying it was going to expand the elephant program by bringing in more elephants.

Then six months later, Blackfish, the documentary about the terrible conditions for orca whales at sea parks, ignited a fervor against keeping highly intelligent animals in captivity. And it hasn't let up.

This past July, Ken and I went to South Africa and we were very fortunate have a number of connective and awe-inspiring sightings of wild elephants on a 2200-acre game reserve.

The experience was nothing short of magical. So I couldn't help but have strong emotions about the two disparate elephant experiences: the zoo vs. game reserve--especially given the sudden, preventable and captivity-induced death of Woodland Park Zoo's lone African elephant, Watoto, this past August.

 So then the Zoo reversed themselves signaling the end of the elephant program.

The latest reporting this week from KUOW confirms that while the Zoo will close it's elephant program (Yay!), it plans to send the elephants to another zoo--not a sanctuary (No!). And these are last ditch efforts now to get the City of Seattle involved, to get the zoo board members to change their mind, to make them see that life in a zoo is not a life for an elephant you claim to care about.

Because an elephant in a zoo is not a full elephant, it's missing what comes from walking hundreds of miles, eating branches and fruit off trees, living amongst blood relatives and having an elephant's life. Saying that Chai and Bamboo have other work to do as species ambassadors is crap.  The Zoo Board must think we are nitwits who cannot like an animal without seeing it for our own eyes.  To which I'd like to say, can you explain the borderline obsession people have with DINOSAURS? You know, animals that have never been alive during our time.

I'd also like to point out that I fell in love with Great White Sharks at age 7 after watching Jaws and continuing to watch shark documentaries and read books about these animals well into adulthood. In wasn't until my late 20's that I *finally* stumbled upon one being rehabilitated at the Monterey Bay Aquarium, and yet, I still loved and appreciated these animals all that time without having seen one face to face.

Ultimately this is a really long way of asking people to email to the City Council to ask them for help pressuring the zoo to send these two elephants to a sanctuary. Thank you.

Interstellar, a parent's perspective

It's hard to miss the abundant cascade of varying opinion and commentary on Interstellar, the ambitious, 3-hour, and somewhat-science-accurate flick by Christopher Nolan. One of my favorite commentary pieces so far was this gem on Cracked.com by David Christopher Bell, where he uses terms like "dream journal" and "frogshits" to further explain how people love to critique Nolan movies.  I think this is mainly because Nolan's treatment and assumptions of space, worm holes, black holes, quantum physics and the Future boldly challenges the viewer to keep up with the story or at least, act like they do.

So Ken and I being the dutiful nerds we are, went and saw Interstellar in IMAX a few weeks ago since it was shot on that format--but for what important reason, I know not. Personally, I think you could see it in a normal theater and not miss much, even saving a few dollars to boot.  But what it did get us was Matthew McConaughey's 6-story-tall crying dad face.

And that is what I want to talk about.

Most of the discussion around this film is about the science and accuracy of the film OR the Nolan-esque qualities of the film OR the strange choices Nolan made in making the film.  What I haven't been able to find (hardly) is a parental perspective on this clearly parentally-themed film.

[SPOILERS AHEAD]

Survival of the species=ultimate parental responsibility

Here is a single dad (McConaughey, known as 'Cooper') who leaves behind his home planet and children in the hopes that he can save the entire human race. It's a bet on the future--a better future--which is something that parents inadvertently do. (BTW, the 'parents' I refer to are the ones who stick around and do the heavy lifting work of raising kids) Any way, 'hopeful' is what it is to be a parent because cynicism has no place.  Being cynical, it is a scary, hypocritical path to wander down once you've brought a defenseless, innocent mini-me into the world so you'd better find a way forward.

Being a parent is also taking responsibility for the propagation of the species which Cooper's character embraces whole-heartedly.  As he goes forth looking for a new home for the human race, he is figuratively and literally providing for 'his family.'  He and his crew are also shouldering the decision-making about what does or does not constitute a suitable environment--just as parents do.

What's interesting is that there are great efforts taken to make sure everyone else on the crew does not have ties maritally or parentally. But Cooper's fatherly instinct and connection to his child is what ultimately saves the entire mission and the human species.  People who have connections were initially looked upon as a liability or disadvantaged but the opposite is proven true.  Also when Anne Hathaway's character tries to make a decision based on love instead of science, she's rebuked but is later shown that following that path would have lead a habitable world and mission success.

I cried ugly when dying, old lady Murphy (Cooper's daughter) and Cooper exchange some final words as she's laying on her deathbed.  She says that no parent should see their child die, and well, that's true--it's not the natural order of things and so she pretty much tells him to leave. Yet the movie has been milking the tension of 'are father and daughter ever going to see each other again?' So when they finally do, after so much has happened, after being absent from so much of each other's lives but then only exchange maybe 5 minutes of dialogue--it's just, just so frustrating and heart-wrenching.  Uggh!

Now I can suspend disbelief like the best of them. But one thing I just could not get simpatico about was the logic of sending all those eggs into space--with one female astronaut.  Seriously though, who was expected to bear and raise all of the new human race? Not to mention, how much radiation is everyone and all the eggs on the ship being exposed during the journey?  (I suppose this is just stuff that comes to me because of being so focused on fertility to achieve both our pregnancies.) But Plan B didn't make a lot of sense unless you had an army of surrogates or the helper robots TARS, KIPP and CASE were equipped with some mechanical uteruses.  I'm just saying.
(UPDATE: I've been informed that there was a one-line throwaway explanation that there were 10 artificial wombs on board the ship.  So at the end of the movie that leaves Anne Hathaway being Decamom, single mother to 10 babies on an alien planet. Let the logistics of that rattle around in your mind for a minute.)

In closing, once you become a parent you have skin in the game. The game being the success of the human race and specifically facilitating a sustainable and fulfilling life for your own offspring.  So I think that's why the movie struck such a nerve with me. Interstellar may shoot for distant worlds but it really hinges on what it means to be a parent in this one.

Showdown in Toddler Thunderdome

There are few places more freaky than a play area in a mall.  You know, those child corrals with shiny plastic foam cars and slides ringed with benches so parents can look at their smart phones and not watch their kids for awhile. (It's also ground zero for Germageddon 2012--where around Halloween of that year, Kristina and I took the older girls and our newborns there, and afterwards we ALL came down with the most horrific colds.)  Yeah, that place.

But after today I have renamed it Toddler Thunderdome.

Kristina and I met there this morning to let the #2s get some physical activity and for us to hang out and chat.  The first 45 minutes was uneventful as a number of other kids of similar age showed up and, beyond the occasional minor jostling, everyone was doing what they wanted and having fun. All of a sudden, right in front of where Kristina and I were sitting, a boy (let's call him Mr. Furious) grabbed and shoved another little boy (both appeared to be 3 yrs old) because Mr. Furious got cut in front of to climb on the plastic caterpillar. There was real menace in this kid--he was pissed.  Luckily our #2s were on the far side, away from this action so we turned away from the scene of crying children and intervening mothers to resume our conversation.

Some 15 minutes later, our kids had wandered back to our side of the play area and were either hopping in and out of the plastic car or climbing up the plastic caterpillar along with a handful of other kids.  I then saw Calvin start to prance (faster than walking but not quite a run) between the two plastic structures but he had too much momentum to stop and ran smack dab into Mr. Furious, who was merely bumped back a little. Suddenly Mr. Furious grabbed Calvin's shirt with both hands and body slammed him backwards to the ground so he's flat on this back. It was so forceful that Cal's back hit the carpet first then his head. Before I could get to my feet, Mr. Furious went all Shark Week on Calvin and bites him on the abdomen.  Calvin started wailing as Kristina & I rushed to comfort him.

By then, Mr. Furious' mother had snatched him away from the area and confined him to the bench.  She came into my eye-line with a look of mortified concern and embarrassment.  My Mama Bear instincts of retribution were stayed by her look of genuine remorse.  The mother apologized to me repeatedly and I felt the automatic phrase of 'It's okay' cue up in the back of my throat but I simply nodded through pursed lips.  Because it didn't really feel okay.

But I realize even good kids have the potential to lose their shit sometimes.  Maybe Mr. Furious had a low blood sugar moment or his parents were getting a divorce.  In any case, I didn't necessarily want to rake her over the coals since I've learned by now that the tables can turn in a heartbeat.  Anyone could suddenly be that mom with the acting-out kid that catches everyone by surprise.  But I didn't want to let her off that easy either.  That was a significant hit and bite so I also wanted her to internalize the feeling so that in the future she remembered to pack a snack or kept closer tabs on him or just didn't bring him to confined areas with other kids.

What I essentially said to Calvin but also directed at the mother was that "sometimes we have hard days but we're tough." Calvin was fine after a few minutes and the bite hadn't broken the skin.  The mom might have brought her son over for some sort of apology but I'm not sure . Either way, she promptly scooped up Mr. Furious and got the hell out of there.  As she should have.

Calvin shook it off like a champ but continued to talk about it in the car during the ride home.  I explained how sometimes people get so angry that it causes them to do things like that.  But we don't bite or hit to solve our problems--we use words. It's both fascinating and frightening to watch the microcosm of what the playground and even the larger world will be like for Calvin.  As a boy, physicality is much more prevalent than it ever has been with Sidney. This is the way of nature but hopefully 'better natures' prevail.  Hopefully.