So I've had this fantasy ever since I was a kid…no not the one about the pool full of rice pudding… no not the one where the stripper cheerleaders are having a pillow fight in the rain… no not the one where AC DC pulls into my gas station and are so impressed with my squeegee skills they offer me a full time gig as a personal roadie…
Yes…The one about the rhino and how cool it would be to ride one around town like some kind of urban yuppie barbarian. Nobody would fuck with the rhino dude, right?

Well I'm looking after my oldest daughter for two weeks sans wife and baby sister, and we're doing some serious one on one parental/child bonding. I took her to the San Diego zoo on Friday and well, turns out she's got this fascination with Rhinos as well. “They poop like cows…can I ride one?” Brought a tear to my one good eye.
So then, a day or two later, we're hanging out cleaning up her room and it hits me that she's growing up sooooo goddamn fast. I don't know what triggered this observation…something small. The way she holds her head with one hip kicked out like a teenager….or maybe the fact that she's discovered sarcasm and is able to quip at me the way my wife used to back when we still liked each other enough to pay attention to such things. I dunno, but I suddenly realized that in many ways, she is riding a rhino right now and it is coming straight for my ass. I can try to out run it, but that's impossible. It's too big and fast to dodge and no matter what I do, it's going to trample the crap out of me. When it's all said and done, and the dust clears, I'll be broke, tired, and old from all the worry.
But here's the thing. I WANT to be trampled by this thing. I WANT my kids to roll over me and leave without looking back, because that is the whole point of growing up. The rhino under their asses is the same one that I had under me…that drove me into a career in animation…brought me to LA….keeps me a slave to a corrupt studio system….

fuck, I think my rhino is dead!........ No wait....its still breathing! Maybe some fight left in her yet.

Someday, in the next year or so, I'll move my wife and kids back to Canada, find a small plot of land, and pick up a couple of cows of my own to raise and eat. Its no rhino…but hey, at least they poop the same.

So I hung out in Banff this weekend for a conference on Story telling. I learned a lot from the wisdom of George Georgeadis, Josh Staub, and the legendary Ronnie Del Carmen (a brilliant story man and all around classy guy). I also got to hang out and meet a great collection of interesting people, some old friends, and many new ones. Banff is a beautiful part of the world and I enjoyed being out in the snow and trees.
I embarrassed myself as usual when I get into such situations and fell victim to my own anti social ways. On the last evening, I had downed too much libation and was standing in an overcrowded dance bar while the tequila mixed with the throbbing strobe lights and the music pummeled my head like a hungry walrus on a can of tuna. I was so filled with a sudden anxiety that I just had to get the fuck out of there…I don’t know what it is in my head that triggers this reaction but I cannot blame it on my old age. I’ve done this kind of stunt before and I’ll probably do it again. I think I may actually just simply be an asshole and I really feel bad for that. Sorry.
Anyhow, walking through the streets of Banff at two thirty in the morning, trying to find a suitable snow bank to die in, I get to thinking about bears. I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again… being mauled to death by a bear, while horrible and not at all comedic in any way, is not without its attraction to me. I think no matter how big a pussy you are in life, when a bear rips you to shreds and feeds on your carcass, nobody could say you had a wasteful demise...Hey the poor guy was hungry...who am I to judge. Alas, no bear found me appetizing so I was left to wake with my shame and a pretty bad headache.
Thanks to all the swell folks who were kind enough to hang out with me. It was an inspiring weekend. For those of you who have never been to Banff, definitely go if you get a chance (at least say the word Banff out loud to yourself a few times...its like shagging a tempurpedic pillow...Bannnnnfffff).
Also, check out my new friend Josh Staub’s short film The Mantis Parable on I-Tunes. It is a brilliant piece of work that Josh made completely from scratch, 100% by himself. Including the music.
Cheers,
Kris.