Like many of you, I enjoy my reality television shows. However, I'd have to say that "Survivor" is one of my favorites. I like to think that I could struggle against the physical and mental elements of the game and end up winning the million bucks.

Based upon a recent experience, though, I am saddened to admit that I am anything BUT a survivor. In fact, I'm probably worse than your "Average Joe."

This all became evident during a windstorm a few nights ago, and living in a somewhat remote area of Butler County, our electricity was knocked out faster than Ken Jennings knocking out two more hapless Jeopardy opponents for the millionth day in a row.

Fortunately, the electricity went dead during the late afternoon and I was able to find four scented candles to light up the house. Nothing screams macho man survivor like the scent of Lavender, Ocean Mist, Vanilla and Strawberry Shortcake candles wafting through a house where the temperature is dropping like contestants on "Fear Factor."

My balmy 72-degree house was fast approaching the dreaded 68-degree mark, a point where manly men turn to whimpering babies.

Because of the recent time shift (daylight savings time), darkness fell on the Ola house and silence started to encompass our guarded grounds. Only the stomping hoofs of Bambi and the calls of our wild turkeys would break the silence - that and the constant pounding of my kids attempting to play hide-and-seek in the shadows.

Two hours into the ordeal and my nerves were like ice, just like the droplets of moisture hanging from my nose due to reaching the 68-degree mark. Could 66, or even 65 degrees be far behind?

Being a man of action, I made my wife find the most recent electric bill since it was in a very remote, scary part of the house. Then, I promptly made her recite the toll-free number to me so I could dial on my cell phone. (Let's see Jeff Probst try to stop me!)

The utility company was aware of the power outage and was doing their darndest to get things back in working order, but it was going to be another four hours! Yikes! How could any man be expected to battle the elements for that long, especially during the best day of the week for television?

Hesitating for one instant to make sure I had my wallet and there was cash in it, as well as to make sure I had a toothbrush, comb, can of soda and other goodies, I packed the diaper bags full of everything imaginable and made an executive decision on behalf of the family: We were going to the grandparents' house.

Upon arrival, we were greeted with the warmth that can only come from former power-outage survivors - wise souls with eyes that sympathized with my plight, eyes that said, "It's OK. You're safe now."

We packed the kids into their pajamas, gave them each a warm bottle of milk and shoved them into the nearest bed. Afterwards, I started to tell our tale to anyone who would listen. The story was cut short, however, when "Survivor" came on the TV.

For the next hour, I watched as contestants battled animals, Mother Nature and each other in an attempt to win a million dollars. All the while, though, I knew that I had been beaten already and could never stand a chance against these super humans.

Feeling defeated, my spirits were instantly lifted when the next show came on.

"The Apprentice" with Donald Trump was playing, and I knew I had what it takes to win that show. I can be as ruthless as the next guy, so long as I have electricity and I'm warm.