So, you know, I always thought I'd be a perfect contestant for Survivor. It's like I've been practising my whole life. I think what started my determination to outlive any catastrophe was the book "My Side of the Mountain" by Jean Craighead George. I read it when I was about 12.

The book follows Sam Gribley, a 13 year old boy from New York City, who chooses to reject urban life, and runs away to his great grandfather's old abandoned farmland in the Catskill mountains to live off the wilderness. He brings with him a penknife, a ball of cord, some flint and steel, 40 dollars he earned from selling newspapers in the busy streets of New York, and the knowledge he gathered reading books about survival.
When he finally gets to the Catskill Mountains, he slowly begins learning the practical aspects of wilderness life, applying the things he read while preparing. He perfects the best ways to fish, starts to orient himself, and learns to forage. He burns and chops out a hollow in a huge hemlock tree to serve as a shelter. He hunts, lays traps, and manages to capture and tame a baby peregrine falcon who he names Frightful, who helps him catch small animals.

I was spellbound and spent that summer trying to find somewhere to hide out and imitate Sam's life. Not an easy chore when you live in the flattest part of Saskatchewan, and you're not allowed out after dark.

Then my Mum introduced me to the books of Euell Gibbons, which I devoured (that's a pun ,if you recognize the author) . I didn't try to run away anymore, but instead I spent my days foraging off of the land, just like Euell taught me. I'd boil up a mess of greens, mostly dandelions and large pieces of crabgrass since there isn't a lot of wild greenery in central Saskabush. I found bulrushes in the local swamp though, that was a treat, and I'd haul them home, dripping and slimy, and grind the roots to make flour, and slice the young cattail tops to fry up. The stalk can be used like an onion. Just think! You can make a batter to coat the cattail in, and flavour it with the onion-y stalk. A whole meal that has 12 times the Vitamin C of an orange. And rose hips for dessert! It was all edible, but I have to admit, really rather disgusting. I'm sure at this point my parents would rather I live outside in a hollow tree, like my idol Sam. I think I recall my Dad even mentioning that, after another "meal" of some ungodly concoction.

Then, to make matter worse, my Mum bought me "The Whole Earth Catalogue", which taught me even more! How to make wool, how to weave, how to make candles and infuse them with scent from wild flowers, how to build a snow shelter, a raft, a tree house, how to cure a cold and how to await water rescue, how to build a fire. In other words...how to survive. You know, after the nuclear holocaust when we all have to start over again.

I didn't get into eating ants and grasshoppers, but, if I had to, I could. I know how to get water from a fish (remember this..it could save your life...eat the eyeballs)

So there I was, wearin' my cool poncho, wearin' my beaded leather moccasins (which I could have made myself, knowing how to skin a deer and chew the hide...thanks Whole Earth Catalogue) My hair was long and parted in the middle, a headband finished the look. Yup, I was a Child of the Universe.

Then I graduated to other post apocalyptic books that also taught about survival. Stephen King's "The Stand" (unedited version only please) Neville Shute's "The Beach", Robert McCammon's "Swan Song" and Edward Silberstain's "Abandoned". Normally I never read a book twice, but these four? I've read them time and time again.

Stuck in some quicksand? Give me a call. Need to build a travois to haul your friend out of the bush, that is, after you've set his broken leg? Just dial my number. Need to boil some water over the fire but you don't have a pot? (and no, it's not a coconut shell) Give me ring...I'll fill ya in.

My point being....I am ready for Survivor! I've been ready since 1974. It's a shame that Canadians can't apply. I'd be a shoe in. I'd wax those young folks in a freakin' heartbeat. I would rock!

Just one thing though, there would have to be no spiders there. And I'd have to at least be able to put on a bit of eyeliner and mascara in the morning, after I shower. And, you know, I'd have to have just a small cup of coffee as well. And I need good tissues to clean my glasses, I get really pissy when they're all smudged and blurry. And I couldn't sleep cuddled up to a stranger who snores and farts, so you know, a little hut of my own would be good. I'd make it myself. I have a wonky knee, so I can't really run, so I'll tend the fire while the rest of you compete, I'm not competitive at all. And I like to sleep in a bit in the morning too. I'm older, so I doubt that anyone will have a problem with that. So, what the hell Jeff Probst? When's my interview?