Kangatopia

The girls and I are having a nice, relaxed evening at home. Their friend came over to play, and now that the friend has gone home, we are picking up toys, washing dishes and finally, sprawling on the couch to watch a travel show about Greece. When we first switch it on, a cute blond girl is sitting in a boat near the shore of the Aegean Sea with something kind of slimy in her hand. We then see that somehow she has fished an octopus out of the water, and La, La, La, she is so happy because this living, pulsating thing has affixed its suction cups to her arms. The camera transitions from the octopus slowly slithering across the bottom of the boat to the girl, who is now sitting next to a fire on the shore with what looks like, Oh My God!, an octopus arm in her hand. Is that? Oh, Jesus, it is. She’s EATING the octopus. And not just eating it, she’s ripping it apart. La, La, La, she sings, I’m eating an octopus. Yum, salty.

And it doesn’t stop there.

Next we see her, she’s walking down a street at night, and she pops into a restaurant for a dinner to follow up her late afternoon snack. Into the kitchen she goes where the chef tactfully ignores her, and she picks up a fried lump of Octopus off a plate, probably belonging to the camera man who is wishing she would sit her ass down in the dining room at a table with everybody else, squeezes a little lemon on it, takes a quick bite and sets it back down on the plate before she pops into yet another restaurant to another 10 second dinner of Octopus. She proclaims it as healthy eating. It is? Really? It looks kind of fatty from here and washing it in sea water to give it extra flavor seems kind of counter-intuitive. Even Monkey is questioning the wisdom. Mommy, is octopus healthy? Well, I guess so, honey, if this cute, blond barbarian says it is. The poor octopus. Swimming along, singing La, La, La, and zoink! out of the ocean onto the grill or into the fire or God help us, made into an ice cream treat? All so this happy go lucky girl can prove to a grossed out PBS audience that she can adapt to any culture and be really Goddamned happy about it. I’m not sure what pulls me into this show more: the trippy exhibition of the octopus as food; the exaggerated appreciation of culture; or her glib cheerfulness, and the rate at which my disgust is escalating.

God, I feel like such a bitch.