Phat Chance
Everyone seems obsessed these days with the latest health trend, whether it is a new exercise craze or this month’s fad keto-schmeto diet.
Not Otis.
There is no Peloton sitting in his closet gathering dust since that boy is proud to be a chow hound.
He cannot even spell Paleo and not just because he primarily packs on the pounds with salmon.
He also weighs about 1,000 pounds so be careful with any fatty jokes.
You see Otis is a brown bear and is four-time champ and fan favorite of Fat Bear Week, a March Madness-style bracket competition held each year by Katmai National Park in southern Alaska to crown the King or Queen butterball that gains the most weight to get ready for the long winter hibernation. The park posts before and after pictures of each contestant and the winner is the best grub stuffer, not necessarily the heaviest bear.
Otis has plenty of competition with each bear being designated by a number and some of the celeb bears given actual names such as “Chunk” or “Holly.”
No shaming involved since it is phat to be fat as a healthy bear needs to pack in a year’s worth of happy meals between June and October since they do not eat or drink during their winter shuteye (some of us have achieved that kind of intake during COVID – it’s okay, you can admit it!).
Everyone seems to be jumping on the bandwagon for this year’s event, including the New York Times and Wall Street Journal, even though they were clearly scooped by my Leasing Illustrated post way back in 2020.
And no wonder when there is a 24/7 live bear cam (yeah, so, maybe that is what I have been doing in retirement).
It is oddly mesmerizing to watch those bears jostle for position and pack away the salmon.
And I am not alone. Whenever I have sat down to spend some quality time with Otis and his pals there are literally thousands of others watching alongside with me instead of writing that contract or doing their homework.
No spoiler alert here but the 2022 winner was decided on October 11th after nearly 800,000 people voted and Otis bear-ly lost out to “Bear Force One” (past champion number 747 whose jumbo jet number itself could be his nickname).
At 1,400 pounds, 747 may be the world’s largest brown bear and he has the combination of dominance to get a prime spot on the river combined with the requisite superior fishing skills.
But I say “Otis my man!”
Otis is getting on in years but may be the biggest celebrity in Alaska (at least among ones that cannot see Russia from their homes) perhaps because while he does not have the bulk of 747, he is very skilled and patient, plopping himself down at the base of the falls in what is known as “Otis’ office” and catching and chomping as many as 40 salmon in five hours.
No doggie bags here, but it is hard for me to fathom downing that many calories of anything unless Nutella is involved.
I am not sure what is so hypnotizing about the bear cam that brings in so many viewers, but for me it is appreciation of Otis and his consummate skill.
It is like watching Jacob de Grom or Aaron Judge or Giannis Antetokounmpo in action.
Or maybe me writing a lease back in the day.
We are all fascinated by anyone who has hit the top of his or her field and is freakishly competent.
Now, on the other end of the spectrum, Rachel Feintzeig of the Wall Street Journal recently was expounding on the benefits of letting yourself be bad at something.
She points out that we are “terrible at being terrible” and get embarrassed at or angry with our failings.
Social media does not help with all those Instagram posts of friends and family (supposedly) succeeding at life with such ease.
But there is freedom (or relief) when not worrying about being good and just enjoying oneself.
As Ms. Feintzeig said, “embrace the fact that you’re a beginner.”
As any reader of this newsletter can attest, I have no problem with mediocrity, and I think Ms. Feintzeig is onto something.
We spend much of our lives trying to perfect one or two skills, perhaps regarding some passion of ours, although usually associated with work or a career.
It takes us years and years to perfect that proficiency, much like Otis or any other “expert.” The classic 10,000 hours of practice theorized by Malcolm Gladwell (and, yes, I billed for every one of them!).
But much of what we do and enjoy does not require the same skill.
I start off many days with a swim but I am not much of a swimmer.
I like to bicycle but am at best an average bicyclist.
I spent years playing basketball but am no LeBron (although people often confuse the two of us).
Notwithstanding the opinion of my clients, as a commercial real estate lawyer I was a lot closer to being at the top of the commercial real estate bar than I was to being Michael Phelps or Michael Jordan, but nothing puts me in a good mood like my slow, lame and aesthetically unpleasing morning swim.
I have also found that with the right frame of mind retirement can be a whole new beginning that allows one to venture down new paths and see where they lead (er, when not watching the live bear cam).
I have been told to think of the first year of retirement as a “gap year” and in many ways that makes a lot of sense. I am not necessarily moving in some of the directions that I first intended but am trying things on for size in a way that has opened up all kinds of unplanned possibilities.
Although frankly, there is no need to wait for retirement. This is a pretty good approach to start implementing much sooner when possible.
The sunny attitude you start feeling may just be your becoming truly mediocre at something.
Will my sunny attitude get cloudy now that Fat Bear Week has ended and there is not the same excitement down at the live bear cam?
Nah. Soon it will be Shark Week.
NEW SECTION: I have added a new section to my Substack website called “Heads & Tales” to include posts that are too long or otherwise not best suited for a blog. Feel free to check it out, including the first entry, “Play Ball”, a satirical look at the red/blue divide through the rivalry of Met and Yankee fans.