Babe Ruth's Piano 5
It took a good long while for Kim to stop screaming. All but one of the camera guys were kind enough to unshoulder their cameras and look around anywhere but the four of us. The one remaining guy in action kept his lens trained on Kim's face, which was probably going to serve as fodder for some killer promo for the show, when it finally did make the networks. So the rest of the guys were able to slink ever so slightly away from Kim and let him bawl himself out.
Bill initially stood by and patted Kim on the shoulder, very manly-like, probably just to make it into the same promo, himself, setting himself as the sensitive, caring one. Lansing bristled a little bit, but not too much. Jim was offering him a piece of gum with those damn flighty hands, and it was quickly gone. Even when Bill came sauntering over, out of the glare of the camera.
"How're you guys holding up?" he asked softly, nodding at the two of them.
Fine, the two of them muttered around gum which Bill just wouldn't be getting.
"Scary, isn't it?" Bill asked.
"Not really," said Jim. He shrugged. Lansing had the distinct impression that if this were a team event Jim would be the kind of guy to, say, pull the tube out of your air supply. He made a mental note not to forget that, whatever was to happen next.
"Okay." It was The Man. He was holding his hands up like Moses over the Red Sea, only he was holding his hands over three men and the parting between them and the softly sobbing one. "Look, Kim, I'm sorry, but you're going to have to go."
Kim looked up, somewhat bleary-eyed. He nodded and began to turn and walk the long walk down the road, waving at the guys as he turned past them. The cameraman followed him. You could just hear him sobbing, still. And you could see the heavy puffs of air coming out of him in the cold morning air.
"Better luck next time, chicken!" yelled The Man. A lock of his hair came out of place. Lansing imagined a soft clunk accompanied it hitting his forehead.
"Not that type of show," whispered some fat whiskered guy with a clipboard, whom Lansing hadn't seen before now. He nudged The Man with the corner of the clipboard and walked back towards the passenger side of the van. He was stealthy for a rotund guy.
Once the cameras had recovered from following Kim, who was picked up about three quarters of the way down the road by yet another van, The Man began again.
"You're going to make three dives apiece, diving to the bottom of this unnamed pond, and you're going to try and retrieve the treasure. Now, the catch is... we can't tell you what the treasure is. You're going to see a lot of stuff down there, and you're going to have to decide what the treasure might be. The person who brings up the treasure we at the show have designated is of the most value shall win the competition."
"Just one round?" asked Bill. "Doesn't sound like much of a competition. Shouldn't this be a couple of rounds or something?" Lansing suspected Bill was enjoying the free food and drink back at the house, and their two evenings weren't quite enough for him. Bill was looking over to Lansing and Jim for support. Jim looked stricken.
JIm hesitated. Lansing guessed he didn't want to follow up Bill's question, making it seem like he was agreeing with Bill. But there he went, anyway, after a little pause. "Ehm, and this is for some woman, right? When are we going to see her?"
"Yes." The Man looked over at the van, into which the fat guy had disappeared. "Yes." Again. He paused. "That's part of the show. You will see her after the task. And if more than one of your recover valuable treasure you will... get to meet. Her. And compete further..er..ly. For her affections. Yes."
Jim approached the palette, on which sat his remaining piece of equipment to put on. "Is there a camera in the helmet?" He turned awkwardly towards The Man. His legs squeaked while his feet remained rooted to the spot, in front of the palette. The two guys that had picked up Lansing in LA stood on either side of him, holding loosely to an arm each, keeping him upright because every time he turned the oxygen tank on his back swung wildly, exaggerating each move he made.
"Hmm?" The Man looked up from some notes he was reading.
"You know. I've seen it on the shows before. A camera in the helmet, so you can see the person's reactions in pretty close up detail."
"Ah, I see. No."
"Oh." Jim looked relieved as he turned slowly and picked up the helmet.
To be continued...
disclaimer:
This was a big, busy week at the Sane Magazine offices in Los Gatos and the surrounding hillside.
Next week we finish off the series with Babe Ruth's Piano 6, and you'll not want to miss it. Really, you won't. So don't. And if you've not read the previous 5 in the series... well, get reading, now, because you'll want to be caught up. They'll read okay out of order, but we won't guarantee maximum freshness.
The week after that we're coming at you live with an issue called 'Lorrainery' to celebrate our favourite distraction/muse.
I'm just warning you now so you gather the kids around and make sure no one misses out.
So there you have it. A roadmap, of sorts.
Oh, and happy 300th issue at
http://www.sanemagazine.com/ to us.