A Crocodile Is Full of Christmas Kindness in Lyle at Christmas

A house in the bustling city doesn't seem like a very good place for a crocodile to live, but it's home for the very affectionate, very reptilian Lyle in Bernard Waber's Lyle at Christmas. It's a locale that allows him to have constant contact with other people, who he loves, as well as other animals, especially the cat Loretta, who lives nearby. While Lyle is reveling in all of his companions and giddily anticipating Christmas, Loretta, stuck with a melancholy owner, slips out the door, leaving her scaly friend anxious and sad. All he wants for Christmas is his neighbor home safe, but can Santa manage it?

I've heard of Lyle the crocodile before but haven't read other books in which he stars. Based on this one, I'd be glad to check them out. Lyle has a kind disposition that seems contrary to his species; perhaps Waber, like the late Steve Irwin, wants to change the public perception of these impressive predators. Of course, Lyle is atypical, every inch a human aside from his body and the fact that he doesn't wear clothes, except for an apron when he is cleaning house.

The book is full of cute, cartoonish drawings, in color and usually more than one to a page. Supporting characters include the Primm family with whom Lyle lives; the supremely surly Mr. Grumps; Hector, a friend of Lyle's who is both a performer and a house cleaner; and the loony, fiery-haired cat lady Prunella.

While they live in the big city, there’s a definite sense of community; as people come and go, they generally treat one another with kindness, and Lyle is especially popular with citizens of all ages, as demonstrated by two pages showing his walk through town, during which the crossing guard, the pizza man, the newsstand owner and a busload of children all take time out to greet him. Later, Lyle finds no shortage of people to help him try to locate Loretta.

Most pages contain three or four sentences, often separated by several drawings. The plethora of pictures helps present the appearance of activity. There’s usually a lot going on in this book, and many people are involved. Waber seems determined to demonstrate that people from all walks of life can live and work together peaceably with a little effort and that stressful situations can actually bring neighbors together instead of driving them apart.

This is a positive message and a charming book. With amusing situations and heartfelt sentiments, Lyle at Christmas contains one green Christmas that won’t leave you feeling blue.

Steve and Me: A Loving Tribute to the Crocodile Hunter

Last year, I awoke the morning of September 4 in a motel room, having attended my cousin's wedding the previous day. Drowsily preparing for the trip home and reflecting on this time of new beginnings, I was jolted from my reverie by the sober words of a news anchor. Steve Irwin, otherwise known as the Crocodile Hunter, was dead. Though I'd long suspected that the seemingly reckless abandon with which Stevo embraced the world's most dangerous creatures might eventually be his undoing, he'd dodged deadly injuries on so many occasions that I had begun to regard him as indestructible. I shook whispers of inevitability from my mind as I stared at the screen in mute shock, devastated at the loss of such a vibrant, passionate individual, a man who crammed more living into each and every day than most of us manage in a lifetime, who committed himself wholeheartedly to preserving the world's wildest places and most misunderstood species. John Denver and Rubeus Hagrid rolled into one. What a guy.

Because I only get basic cable, I never watched as much of Crocodile Hunter as I wanted to, usually only catching it at my grandparents'. I realized after his death that I wasn't really familiar with his wife Terri at all, though she was an integral part of his show. When I watched her interview with Barbara Walters last fall, I was mightily impressed with her warmth and passion, her kindness and intelligence. This year, I caught her again on Good Morning America, and when I learned that the reason for this interview was the publication of a memoir recalling her life with her husband, Steve and Me became a top priority on my reading list.

Terri doesn't put on any airs in her book. She writes from the heart, and a sense of profound conviction pervades each page as she invites readers to share in the exhilaration of her fateful love-at-first-sight meeting with Steve, the wonder of their outback expeditions together, the setbacks they faced and triumphs they achieved in their determination to live as "wildlife warriors". I already had a big soft spot for Steve before I read the book, but within the first few pages, I'd fallen head over heels in love with the guy, utterly enraptured by Terri's dizzying descriptions. As the book progressed, she continually demonstrated what an outstanding individual Steve really was: courageous, driven, emotionally open, hilarious, hard-working, utterly devoted to his family and his cause.

While Terri, aside from some ill-advised reptile wrangling while great with child, seems to have been a bit more level-headed than Steve, her passion for conservation clearly runs just as deep. In fact, their initial meeting came about while she was on a trip to Australia to discuss placing cougars, threatened in her native Oregon, in zoos there. Steve's reptile park was tiny at the time, and it certainly wasn't the sort of place that would house cougars, but Terri believes that destiny drew her that day to the man she would marry. What followed were fifteen years of partnership, of palpable love and respect. Maybe Terri slipped on the rose-colored glasses in the wake of her husband's death, but it certainly seems as though the two were soul mates and enjoyed as successful a marriage as any couple could hope for, an especially impressive feat once The Crocodile Hunter brought the limelight and public scrutiny.

The Irwins certainly had their share of difficulties - financial limitations in the early days, the ever-present danger of Steve's work that led to many injuries, stretches of time away from each other, the particularly painful sudden death of Steve's mother in 2000 and outcry over Steve's decision to include his infant son Bob in one of his crocodile shows - but they faced them together. Back when Terri and Steve first met, she couldn't imagine uprooting herself to relocate in a strange land across the world, but when their whirlwind romance led to a comically casual proposal, she knew there could only be one answer. The epigraph of Ruth 1:16 - the "your people shall be my people" speech - sets the tone for the book perfectly, hinting at Terri's deep faith and her absolute devotion to Steve and willingness to completely change her life for him.

Throughout the 19-chapter book, she repeatedly notes that whenever she and Steve were together, she had a sense that nothing could harm either of them. Apart, there was vulnerability. Every time she reiterates that conviction, it takes readers one step closer to the tragic conclusion, and I got the impression she was working through some guilt over having passed Steve up on his suggestion that she, Bindi and little Bob postpone a planned skiing trip by a couple of days in order to extend their own family vacation together. If they had, they would have been with him the day he died, and perhaps things would have played out differently. He might not have had the encounter with the stingray at all.

But Steve never thought he would pass the age of 40. He was convinced he was going to die young, which was part of the reason he was so determined to squeeze every last bit of living out of his time. It also was one of the reasons he was so anxious to have children; he hoped they could carry on his legacy, just as he had done for his parents. Bindi, only eight at the time of his death, has already taken up the challenge, spreading the conservationist message through her show Bindi the Jungle Girl.

This is a powerful book. I laughed many times as Terri described some of her outlandish adventures with Steve, whose sense of humor kept him always at the ready for a little mischief. I remember one of the moments that stood out in the interview with Barbara Walters was when Terri said what she missed most about her husband was that he was fun. That clearly shines through in this book, and the included photographs illustrate his zest for life. In the acknowledgements, Terri reveals that she cut about 700 pages from her first draft. I can't help but wonder what fantastic stories we're missing out on; maybe she should write a sequel!

In Steve and Me, we get a portrait of a vivacious man who adored his family and who felt called to the purpose of protecting some of the world's most maligned creatures. Steve inspired millions of people with his passion for wildlife. Terri's tireless efforts, including writing this ode to their life together, ensure that his work continues.

For information on how to be a Wildlife Warrior, visit www.wildlifewarriors.org.

Everyone is Good for Something, Sunbathing Alligators (or Crocodiles) Included

James Marshall is probably best known for his books about George and Martha, a pair of hippos who are very good friends. But he wrote quite a few books about a variety of different creatures, and Willis contains quite an array of animals within its pages. The titular character is an alligator - or is it a crocodile? Marshall never identifies his species for us, so we’re left to our own familiarity with reptilian biology on that one. Suffice it to say that Willis is a large, unhappy, scaly creature. Rather than lurking in a swamp as most of his species might be content to do, Willis insists on lounging on the beach. Unfortunately, his eyes aren’t so good, and they are extremely irritated by the sunlight. So instead of enjoying his exotic surroundings, he spends his days moping, and as the book opens, we find him dampening the sand with his salty tears.

 

Happily for him and us, three kind-hearted strangers happen upon him in his misery. The ring-leader is a large pink bird on a bicycle, and riding in baskets on either end are a snake and lobster, both green. Lobster doesn’t have much to say, fond as he is of going to sleep. Snake is a bit more talkative, and he’s very eager to help Willis purchase a pair of sunglasses for 29 cents so he can enjoy the beach like everyone else. But Bird is the real go-getter, and he has the logical idea that they should work to earn the remaining 19 cents, after the dime the snake has agreed to contribute.

What follows is a series of ridiculous mishaps as the new friends attempt several jobs, finding themselves hopelessly inept when it comes to each of them. Their disastrous efforts are amusing, as is the notion of buying something for 29 cents or being paid 19 cents for a grueling task. The illustrations are simplistic, flat and mostly limited to the same shades of pink, yellow and green. There is great whimsy in their lack of frills. I’m especially fond of one picture, in which we see Bird glaring disapprovingly down at Snake, who, with a pink ribbon around his neck, innocently hold a dime in his mouth as an offering to Willis to buy himself the comfort he seeks.

After all their misadventures, the friends wise up a bit by deciding to figure out just what it is that they are particularly good at. Unsurprisingly, Lobster announces that he excels at sleeping, and it’s rather logical that the Snake happens to be a good hypnotist. Willis and Bird have more unexpected talents, but each has something impressive to share, so they finally decide to earn the sunglasses by putting on a talent show (for which they build a stage, with no explanation as to where they found the money to do that…).

Willis is a story about perseverance and about making good use of your talents. But mostly, it’s the tale of four mismatched creatures who do a lot of silly things, and Marshall’s desire for kids to “laugh uncontrollably” when they read his books is likely to come to fruition as youngsters peruse the pages.

Town Mouse, Country Mouse, Aussie Style

This is one of those classic movies that stations like WGN and TBS feel compelled to play over and over. Who can resist the endearing smile and inherent charm of Paul Hogan as Mick Dundee, the king of the Australian outback? Certainly not Sue (Linda Kozlowski), a reporter who flies to Australia to investigate this man who she has heard is like a Tarzan of the Bush. It turns out that Dundee has a few tricks up his sleeve, and he's not quite as primitive as Sue thinks he is. Still, he certainly knows his way around the bush, and when Sue foolishly decides to have a go at trekking the outback alone, Mick swoops in to save her from death by croc.

Mick is a fascinating character from the start, and Sue is sufficiently intrigued to bring him home to New York with her and see how he copes with the big city. He is as out of place in the bustling Big Apple and Sue was in Australia, but no one seems to mind. The naive visitor is an instant hit with everyone, and it's no wonder why. As he walks down the streets of New York, he stops to wish good day to everyone he sees. He's surrounded by strangers, and he seems to want to introduce himself to each and every one.

Most of the movie's funniest moments originate from the clash of the two cultures. Mick is befuddled by the bidet in his bathroom, convinced that his African-American chaffeur is an aborigine, and offended when a pimp uses "bad language in front of the ladies" he is talking with, who happen to be prostitutes. All decked out in crocodile leather and carrying a knife that's practically a machete, Mick is rather conspicuous. But his homegrown knowledge serves him well even in urban America, and this strine-speaking stranger wins the hearts of hundreds of New Yorkers, including Sue, whose obnoxious boyfriend is just itching to marry her.

Every scene with Mick is full of surprises. Bringing attack dogs into submission with just a stern glance. Making "herbal tea" out of cocaine to help a coke-sniffer "clear up his sinuses". Responding to a mugger with a knife by pulling his own much larger knife out and slicing through his jacket. Climbing up a lamp post to get out of the steady stream of pedestrian traffic. You never know what to expect next with this guy, and he makes this movie a delight from beginning to end. Check out this movie and meet the original crocodile hunter.