This weekend (April 1st, 2017) I attended the 2nd Annual Verde Valley Comic Expo, put together by the Northern Arizona Cartoonist Association, to spread the word about sharks and the peril they face. Many kids stopped by the booth either to ask questions about sharks, or to watch the dive videos from my recent expedition to Fiji’s Coral Coast, or my past expeditions to Isla Guadalupe in Mexico.
Every day, I scour the internet for news about sharks. When I do this, I will inevitably find something that makes my blood boil, but some of it’s led to positive action (I helped start an investigation that I found out later led to the charter boat Phoenix get fined for illegally taking a hammerhead), and I’m proud of that. When you add the Trumps to the equation, well, things are going to get heated.
Hi folks, I’m still re-adjusting to non-shark diving life and I’ve got to file my taxes this weekend because I’m starting to get angry letters from the Arizona Department of Revenue, just chiming in to let you know that avast! There be new content ahead!
Over the next week, I’ll be talking about my trip to Fiji, finally doing that review of the Phoenix, AZ food truck “Maine Lobster Lady”, talking about the Trump Administration’s threat to dismantle the “Sea Grant” program, and sorting out that Phoenix Suns/Dolphinaris AZ promotion controversy.
See you soon!
The one thing that is very hard for a person who loves the ocean is the idea of eating wildlife, aka fish. I touch on it a little in my poem “Suicide Bomber“, that everything from the lowly crab to the mighty marlin is classified as “seafood”, as if there is some common thread between these animals, beyond the fact that they both live in the ocean.
February 19th through the 25th in the Year of Lord 2017 was a busy week on TheKlute.com, with some piping hot commentary and popping fresh poems. In case you missed it, or ICYMI as the kids say, here are the links of the week.
So I wrote this one awhile back… A variation on the Apocalypse I wrote for an unreleased chapbook I had planned back in 2012 called The 14th Bak’tun, when the height of paranoia surrounding the end of the 13th Bak’tun of the Mayan solar calendar supposedly foretold the world’s end. Here, whales are the cause of humanity’s downfall.
One of the things for being the preeminent (because I think I’m the only) shark conservationist on poetry slam’s national stage, are lots of wall posts from my friends about shark stuff. And don’t get me wrong, I love each and every one of them. Silly shark memes? Love it. Videos of sharks doing awesome stuff? Love it. News stories about sharks? Love it… but…
I love shrimp.
Love it. Maybe more than I like any other food. Grilled shrimp skewers, coconut shrimp, tempura rolls, you name it, I love the taste, I love the texture, shrimp delivers on every level. Popcorn shrimp? Fuck yes. As a wee Klute, Red Lobster’s was my jam, and my father, frustrated that I never ordered anything else, tried to talk me into crab, fish, etc.
Nope. He didn’t understand that part of the appeal of popcorn shrimp was that I could pretend I was a giant baleen whale and I was swallowing a whole school of delicious, golden brown, tiny crustaceans. I just assumed they ate it like I did. I didn’t know where they got the cocktail sauce, but whales were smart.
So, last night I performed at the Erotic Poetry & Music Festivus at the Alwun House in Phoenix, AZ. It was a great show, with some fantastic performers that it was an honor to share the stage. Thanks to Ernesto Moncada and Rosemarie Dombrowski (Phoenix’s poet laureate!) for asking me to perform!
When I walked into the venue, I was introduced as “Phoenix’s leading shark expert” – which, flattering, but probably not true! Ernesto, when inviting me, asked me to consider writing a shark erotica piece. I was up to the challenge!
Last night I attended Mahiki Invasion at UnderTow, Phoenix’s new tiki bar that is attempting to resurrect classic tiki bar culture. It was pretty damn great. And not just because they started plying us with rum as soon as we entered the door (the three drinks were the Mahiki Bar London’s take on the classic Don the Beachcomber cocktails “Missionary’s Downfall”, “Navy Grog”, and something served in a coconut). There are a lot worse ways to spend a Thursday night.