Ritual hazing is common practice in hierarchical societies, as demonstrated in the grand traditions of the Russian army and your local high school football team. As the new kid on the blog, I can expect the mental humiliation and all-in-good-fun beatings intended to shatter my spirit in favor of the greater collective. Thus, it comes as no surprise that the good folks at Gadling have thrown me straight into the lion’s den that is modern-day Tahiti-a living hell of fruity drinks and mid-November suntans. Someone with a stopwatch has a thumb poised, just waiting for me to cry “blossom”, which is my safe word.
Let us recall that Tahiti represents the figurative tipping point of the H.M.S. Bounty (as in “m-u-t-i-n-y”)-as in, the ship of bright young traveling men who sailed to the ends of the earth on assignment, came upon these fair isles, dropped everything, quickly forgot their duty to God, Queen and Country, took unto themselves Tahitian wives, and went severely A.W.O.L. Two days in Tahiti and I’m totally sympathetic.
Until the mutiny gets official approval, I’ll be right here, blogging the best of the islands with all the sweaty moves of a Polynesian dancer. Stay tuned for good times as we dart across the South Pacific and end up in the farthest corner of the EU, which this technically still is.