My friend Mina will hike almost anywhere in the world with little to no fear of what may be waiting for her around the next bend or behind a tree. It’s just not something she thinks about. I, on the other hand, if I know I’m going hiking, I start imagining bears two weeks before I leave my house. No, thank you.
Hiking in woods, forests and, particularly, jungle scares the be-Moses out of me. More than a few times a year, I’ll read about some poor schnook dragged away by a bear, then snapped in half like a breadstick. Or someone who got too close to a mountain lion’s cubs and becomes Uber Eats for her young family.
To me, every spider is a brown recluse. So, I stay home and watch TV; call me a white recluse.
My friend Jonas loves surfing. When I asked if he was afraid of sharks, he said no. I, on the other hand, am. The thought of standing on a surfboard also seems impossible, since I can hardly stand without falling over when I wake up in the morning.
I don’t know why I agreed to this, but my wife Nancy and I went snorkeling on an island near Bocas del Toro called Starfish Island. Just a short plane ride from Panama, Starfish Island is where you spy starfish the size of a large cheese pizza. My wife doesn’t seem to worry about something swallowing her up whole as she floats aimlessly, wide-eyed, enjoying the deep blues and vibrant yellows of the aquatic plants and gigantic starfish.
I, however, jumped in, saw one starfish, panicked, kept looking behind to see what was going to devour me, then climbed back onto the boat, leaving my wife, God forbid, to fend for herself. Was that wrong? Should I feel guilty?
People say, “Mark, these things don’t happen that often.” But they do happen. If I toss out a can of baked beans that expired one day earlier for fear of botulism, what do you think goes through my mind when it comes to bears, mountain lions, sharks and rattlesnakes?
“Don’t go” is what goes through my mind.
My son Eli went to China on business for 10 days and invited me to join him if I paid my airfare. He’d take care of the rest. Ten days in the top hotels, just father and son.
But I’ve read about innocent travelers who are occasionally falsely arrested in China. And like most Jews, I like Chinese food, but not enough to spend 20 years in a Chinese prison eating fried rice seven days a week. I regret that fear got the best of me, and I missed hanging out with my son. That may have been a poor choice.
If I’m such a scaredy-cat, why do my wife and I stay in a place like Los Angeles, with its soaring crime, very little help from the police and politicians who seem to side more with criminals than law-abiding people?
Many of our friends who have moved away did so to be nearer to their children and grandchildren. But most of my children and grandchildren are right here, smack dab in Los Angeles. It’s true, shark and snake bites don’t happen that often, but bad things happen very often here in Los Angeles. We choose to stay, however, because we love our family, friends and community.
That’s why we put up with the homeless, mentally ill, home invasions, street crime, carjackings, extremely high taxes and antisemitism spiraling out of control. The shuls and schools have become fortresses. Real safety is nowhere to be found, and, truth be told, it never existed.
A day doesn’t go by that I don’t cross the street or go back the other way because I think I spot a potential lunatic half a block down.
So, for the foreseeable future, I’ll sit on the shore to watch Jonas surf, listen to Mina tell me about her hike and I’ll live with our home alarms, door cameras, bars on the windows and pepper spray, hoping one day life will return to the Shangri-La it never was.
Mark Schiff is a comedian, actor and writer and hosts, along with Danny Lobell, the “We Think It’s Funny” podcast. His new book is “Why Not? Lessons on Comedy, Courage and Chutzpah.”
