My life a reality television hit?

By By Fredie Carmichael / staff writer
May 23, 2004
For whatever reason, I have found that I'm somewhat addicted to MTV's brand of reality television shows.
Call me crazy, but I love them. I've been a life-long "Real World" fan, the show that jump-started the whole reality TV boom and began in the early 1990s. The show puts eight young people in a posh home for three months and records their every move.
I could name the countless others that have followed that are equally as addictive, but for the sake of space I won't. My wife and I often joke about what the ratings would be like for a reality show about our life.
Here's a sneak peek.
Our show, based inside our home in the quaint Clarkdale Estates subdivision, would star my wife, Sara, in the lead role as a cute, independent, bundle of energy; my brother-in-law, Jonathan, a deep-thinker with a pet python who aspires to land a patent every month for his latest invention; my spastic cat Skittles, known to attack an ankle, the walls, or our visitors; my dog Oreo, a cute Maltese/poodle mix puppy that demands everyone's attention; and, of course, me, the laid-back leader of the crazy group.
Our school-age neighbors would highlight shows in comedy-filled guest appearances.
The idea
One recent Tuesday night, we all huddled around the television to watch the latest episode of "Real World San Diego," Season 14.
This particular episode on MTV included a camping trip in which cast members loaded up in a van and headed for a nearby park to camp out.
That's when it hit me "Hey, we should go camping," I said.
Nobody said much, other than Jonathan who always backs me up. "Dude, let's do it this weekend," he said.
Sara wasn't as excited. "I don't know," she said. "I'm not much for camping."
I had learned
a thing or two in 21⁄2 years of marriage: Give and take. I offered her a day of something she loves, an afternoon of soaking up the sun. In exchange, I got a night of no running water, no electricity, bugs, a muggy tent with no air conditioning, no bathroom, etc.
An even swap in my book; I was being a generous husband.
As soon as the show ended, I was on the computer looking up campsites around Okatibbee Lake. I already had a pontoon boat docked at the marina, I thought, so why not just beach it at a nearby lakeside campsite?
This was going to be perfect. It was like being 12 all over again.
Jonathan and I were both off work that Friday and we could have everything set up by the time Sara and Oreo arrived at the campsite (Skittles doesn't handle the outdoors too well).
After we set up camp, pitched the tent and even did a little fishing, we got bored. I sat on the beached pontoon and used my cell phone to call my wife. She and Oreo were still about an hour away from arriving.
The boat, a 24-foot Manitou, is a fairly new family purchase. We hadn't had time to work out all the kinks. And looking back on it, the next few minutes probably weren't the best time to do that.
After we wiggled the fuel line and fuel filter and added more oil, (we're obviously not expert boaters) we were ready to go. As we sat in the shallow water, we let the motor idle, which we always do at the marina to let it warm up properly. What we didn't think about was all the sand and mud that was being sucked through the water pump, clogging the water flow to the motor.
As we pulled out, we hammered down on the throttle and shouted as our party barge scooted across the water. It ran like a champ, for about 15 seconds.
Then, all of the sudden, the engine slowly began to shut down and we noticed the dreaded smoke coming from the back of the boat. It looked like the engine had overheated. But why?
Too much oil? Too much acceleration too quickly? Or was the boat just in shock from finally running right? We had no clue.
We never thought about all the sand that had clogged the water pump, preventing the water from properly cooling the engine.
Averting crisis
After sitting there for a minute and trying unsuccessfully to restart the engine, a thought occurred: Sara. She was on her way to the campsite with Oreo and we weren't there.
Instead, we were drifting in the middle of the lake.
What do we do? She would be ready to leave before our camping even had a chance to begin?
We went into crisis-planning mode let's get back to shore before Sara arrives and not tell her about the boat. It would ruin her weekend, after all. We didn't want that. This had to go perfect.
Well, finally, an hour later, as the sun set over the lake and other campers gathered around camp fires, our rescue boat arrived to tow us in. As we neared, I noticed Sara, with Oreo in arm, looked confused as she watched us being towed in.
As we hit the shore, I could tell she wasn't happy. After all, she'd been at work all day, rushed to the grocery store afterwards to pick up hot dogs and other food for our camp, and had to keep up with Oreo.
In the end, and despite the boat problems, we all had a great time after Jonathan and I gave in, picked up the tent and moved it to a less primitive site.
Which begged the question the next day: "I wonder what kind of ratings our camping episode would have gotten?"