The Hungry Barbarian

Having an overprotective Italian mother (or grandmothers, plural) does not help when trying to follow through on really dumbs ideas like this.  They understandable want to protect their baby (i.e. me), especially when the bet involves a lack of food.

My mom’s mom, didn’t mince words in her assessment of my idea.  ”You’re so stupid!  This is so stupid!  Why would you do this stupidity?  Stupid, stupid, stupid.”  

The problem is, she doesn’t live too far from where I’ll be (15 minutes), so I can’t completely tune out what she says.  ”There’s nothing on the farms and the water is freezing.  Maybe you can catch a few crabs, but not clams.  The water is just too cold.”  I knew the water was going to be cold out there (average temperature for the month of June is 66 *F) but with only one change of clothes and a fire to warm me up this might be an issue.  

I jokingly told her to check up on me once a day to make sure I’m still alive.  ”Why don’t you just drive over?”  ”I’m not allowed to use a car grandma”  ”This is the dumbest idea I have ever heard.  Stupid, stupid, stupid, stu……….”   You get the picture.

My mother’s methods have been at least a little bit more subtle.  Comments here and there, offering to take the first box to get me out early.  Generally calling the whole thing an, “experiment in stupidity,” (like mother like daughter) she knows me well enough to know my mind’s made up, but that won’t stop her from trying to find angles to make it easier.

“What if you asked the neighbor’s for food?”  Nope, against the rules.

“What about if you went through their trash?”  Nope, against the rules.

“What is wrong with you?  What are the neighbors going to think watching you living like a hobo try to eat squirrels and seagulls?  They’re going to think we’re lunatics”

My dad’s mom takes no prisoners when it comes to food.  She was born to cook, and her brood is going to eat and eat well.  When she would babysit us as kids, she wouldn’t tell my mother what we did while gone, instead she would give a complete rundown of everything we ate.  When she was notified that I would be basically starving myself for a week, she didn’t even blink.  

In a thick Italian accent: “Listen, grandpa will drive me up.  We’ll meet at a road off the main highway.  I’ll have a tray of ziti and a tray of chicken cutlets hidden under a pile of leaves.”  

When told that would be against the rules, she cut me off.  ”You don’t say anything and no one has to know.  Just think about it.  Do what you want, but think about it”  I think she might have done this before. 

That’s a Sicilian for you.

I’ve been eating like its my job. The Yankee game last night saw hot dogs, cracker jacks, peanuts and anything else I could get my hands on get washed down my gullet. Breakfast the last few days has consisted of homemade sloppy joe with eggs (my family almost threw up watching me), ham egg and cheeses, meatballs, anything to fatten me up a bit.

Stupid? Likely, but if starving myself for a week keeps my mother from bringing up my cholesterol every 5 minutes while I eat whatever I want, I might have to start doing this a little more often.

This can’t be healthy.

When we decided that the idea was official, Zach sent out this email summing things up:

Attention all revelers,

When a friend who was raised in Connecticut, resides in Manhattan, and enjoys the finer things in life such as well heeled shoes, fine dining, and air conditioning, says to you “I’m going to be in the Hamptons and I was thinking about living off the land for a week.  Do you think I can do it?”, What exactly do you say?  I say let’s create a box pool divided into hours and then sell each hour block for $10 and try to see who can cash in on your impending demise.  So I say to you friends of the Hungry Barbarian; for $10/box selected at random (like a super bowl box pool), no maximum number of boxes, who would like to be a part of this?

There are very distinct rules to this wager:

Hungry Barbarian is to live, east, sleep, and bathe outside.  All facets of everyday life must be out side, with one exception: he is allowed to use the toilet inside, but is under no circumstance allowed to linger in the house.

Hungry Barbarian can not buy any food, he must catch fish, crab, squirrel, etc. to eat, or he can take food from neighboring farms but he cannot accept gifts of food from family or friends, and he cannot feast of the substantial stockpile that is sure to be in Casa de Barbarian, he is given use of the fire pit to cook, 1 pot, 1 pan, 2 knives, 1 plate, 1 cup, silverware.

We will provide him with unlimited fresh water, matches, shelter (tent and sleeping bag), flashlight (no change of batteries). He will be given a fishing pole.

As for clothes; 3 t-shirts, 1 pair shorts, 4 pair underwear, 4 pair socks, 1 pair pants, 1 bathing suit, (in general, clothes to last him the week, but he may have to wash them)

He is not allowed to shower inside, he can bathe in the bay, but so as not to risk his health he will be allowed to rinse the salt off with the hose as often as he needs to.

He will not be allowed spices, he will have to make his own salt or collect his own spices.

He will be given use of a bike and either a basket on the bike or a backpack to carry supplies.

He will be given a cell phone for emergencies only

He will blog every night about the day

He will put the lotion on it’s skin, or it gets the hose again

Boxes will be in 1hr durations, with the hours of midnight-6am coming in one box, so there will be 19 boxes per day X 7 days, if he makes it the whole week, Hungry Barbarian wins the pot.  Winner will be paid out full amount minus 5-10% of the pot that we will use for supplies etc.

Side bets are welcome, more rules will follow, any questions or clarifications let me know, start telling me how many you want. $10 gets you one box (random selection), $100 gets you 10 boxes (all random) + 1 box of your choosing

For months I had been entertaining an idea.  While stuck at my desk, staring at a computer I would peek outside at the sky and wish for some fresh air and a chance to experience nature at its most basic level.  I wanted to live off the land.      

While this was likely just a pipe dream, something anyone in an office job thinks about to some degree, every time I watched an episode of “Survivorman” or “Man vs. Wild” part of me wondered whether I could last.  I could do it.  

The thought began to fester and grow.  

Anyone who knows me also knows that food is my life.  My girlfriend worries she’s always going to be second to a batch of my grandma’s veal cutlets with a side of potatoes.  No way could I go without good food for a week, much less catch, clean and cook it myself.  

Finally, like all great ideas it blossomed…after a couple of drinks.  I argued with my friend Zach over whether I could actually do it or not. As the discussion got heated,  I uttered 5 words I might soon regret, “I bet I could do it”    

One week, fresh water, equipment, but no food. 

Welcome to my adventure.