The Green Red Green Read Online Free PDF Page A

and then drop them on the faces of your sleeping friends. When it’s time to put the fire out, beer makes an excellent extinguisher, as long as you drink it first.
Step Six
    Unroll your sleeping bag on a soft, dry surface, such as someone else’s sleeping bag. When the owner comes looking, say his bag was swiped by the tattooed guy who threw the bottle. Once you’re snug in your sleeping bag, make the loudest and most offensive body noises you can. This will send a clear message to the other campers and the animal kingdom that nobody should mess with you, because you’re too busy messing with yourself.
Step Seven
    On the off chance that you live until morning, get up quietly and collapse everybody else’s tents. This will create a certain amount of confusion and even hostility, so none of them will notice you siphoning their gas.
Step Eight
    Grab an armful of other people’s cookware and hit the road. The disappointment of having to return to your job or family will be offset by the fun of whipping pots and pans at hitchhikers.
Step Nine
    Go back to your normal life and count the days until Tuesday.
AN AUTOBIOGRAPHICAL INTERLUDE
    T
he Red Green Show
was not my first stab at television. That surprises most people who’ve seen it. Over the years, I’ve hosted a large number of outdoors shows and nature films. Here’s some of my other work, which you may or may not have seen and/or enjoyed. I have everything I’ve ever done recorded on tape (mostly Beta and some eight-tracks).
    The Lure of Lures
(1971–74). Lure-Id Films, Inc. 26 episodes. Every week I talked for a half-hour about fishing lures. My guests included a very young Michelle Pfeiffer. This series can sometimes be seen in reruns after 4 a.m. on small cable channels during thunderstorms.
    “Mr. Bait” Commercials (1975–77). I was the official spokesperson for the Mr. Bait Shop in town. I loaned my face and good name to promote their fine line of fishing bait. Most people don’t remember seeing me in those commercials—perhaps because my face was somewhat obscured by the giant worm costume.
    Run, Kids! It’s a Big, Bad Fire!
(1978). This was a film I made for the local fire department. It was an educational film warning schoolchildren about the dangers of playing with matches. To save money, we filmed it at my house. Ironically, one of the bright movie lights set fire to a stack of empties and burned the place down. The profits from the film almost covered the $500 deductible on my fire insurance policy.
    Let’s Fry Something Good
(1980–83). Fry Films, Inc. 45 episodes. This was a cooking show I did with my wife, Bernice. Each week she would fry up a different meal—fish, chicken, spaghetti. I would sit on a stool and banter with her and ask questions like “Is that a real apple?” At the end of the show, I would taste what Bernice had prepared and smile at the camera and go “MmmmmmMMM!” (Golly, that was acting.) Series was cancelled when my cholesterol level surpassed our ratings.
    Understanding Computers
(1984). An educational TV series about understanding and using your brand-new home computer. I hosted the show and played the part of the viewer—the person who knows nothing about computers. Over the series, I learned all about software and hardware and so on from my tutor—played by my then five-year-old nephew. The show had a good budget, a great time slot, and lots of snazzy special effects. Our only mistake was choosing the Mattel Intellivision as our computer.
    Cars and Bikinis
(1985). Headlight Productions. Pilot episode only. This was a great idea that never went to series. Kind of like
Baywatch
, but with cars too. Just too ahead of its time.
    Explosions!
(1986). BoomBoom Films. Pilot episode only. This was an educational series about the history of things blowing up. An unfortunate incident during filming shut the project down. Later, the A&E network bought the idea off me for thirty dollars and retitled it
Brute Force
, and it