A Day At The Aquarium

From the archives. A little day trip my beloved and I took back in 2007.


This weekend hubbie and I went to the aquarium. Nice little place, the aquarium. Very colorful, very tranquil. In my next life I'd like to be a fish in an aquarium. Not just any fish, though. I'd like to be one of those pretty, bright colorful fish that swims within the coral reefs in a nice, big tank in an aquarium. Now you ask, why not a fish that swims within the coral reefs of an ocean? You have freedom, it's more natural. Well, because in the ocean, there is a very high probability that my life would be cut considerably short by an even bigger fish than me who is hungry for dinner. And I would find that a little stressful.

So we go to the aquarium with my brother and sister-in-law - funny little pair those two, very entertaining, very nice. I like nice people. As soon as we arrive we decide to go and see the seal show. We go see Java the seal perform superior tricks because this is what one does when one goes to one of these places. Java the seal probably weighs 2 to 3 times my weight. Well no wonder, everytime he does a trick he gets fed a fish. Now I ask: Why can't I be fed every time I do a trick? But I digress. We're watching Java earn his meal. Java strikes a pose. Now Java waves to the crowd. Hey, Java dances! Ok, I'm bored, I've seen this before, show me a new trick. How about Java speak human language? Can Java do that? Have Java say, "Please, Sir, may I have some more?" a la Oliver Twist. Now that would impress me! But, no, of course he can't do that. *yawn*

But while Java is doing his superwonderful, amazing tricks and keeping the crowd entertained, I notice there is an annoying little bee buzzing within my area of comfort. I tend to notice these things. He buzzes and lands unsuccessfully on people around me who are too busy watching the overfed Java do tricks to notice or even care that a bee is invading their space. But, the bee, truth be told, does not seem interested in them anyway; or, maybe he just doesn't care for their taste. Frankly, neither do I. If these people think Java is so wonderful and magnificent, then they have set their bars really low and expect very little from the universe. But I digress. So I'm watching this bee and I'm sure the bee is watching me, but eventually he buzzes away. And I relax because I hate bees, wasps, flies, mosquitoes (any of those little annoying bugs that fly and give me welts). And then, then....it stings me! Right on the back of my neck! Well I, of course, scream and jump around like a girl. Yes, like a girl because I am a girl. And I inadvertently hit my husband and the man sitting on the other side of me. This man, not at all appreciative of my sudden dance movements, proceeds to move as far away from me as possible while mumbling under his breath something to the effect that I was rude to have hit him. My husband tells me to calm down and that I'm imagining things. I show him my welt. I point to the bee. I'm still imagining, he says. "I am not!" is my intelligent, mature response. The people behind me stare in disbelief -- what is wrong with this woman? To this, supportive hubbie jumps in on the opportunity to further cement these people's misguided and, may I add, unrequested opinion of me, and shrugs as if to say, yes, this is her normal and this is my life. Meanwhile, Java is looking in my direction wondering what the commotion is all about and not at all pleased that I am stealing his spotlight and probably thinking that he will now have to share his fish. Listen, you no-talent leech, I don't want your fish, so relax. Meanwhile, the turistas, my brother and his beloved, are being so entertained by Java that they miss the real show behind them - namely, me. Really, they've been to dozens of aquariums and seen dozens of seal shows, yet there they are acting like a couple of tourists with the camera, with the oohhs and the aahhs. Honestly!

Then I see the bee again. Aha! He is heading Java's way. I see this. No one else does, but I do. And the bee starts to annoy Java; Java tries to shoo him away. It doesn't work. The bee stings Java. Now Java jumps into the water and won't come out. Show's over. Ohhh, too bad, so sad! And now everybody is upset and concerned about Java. Everybody is upset and concerned that he got stung by a bee. Me? I laugh. I laugh real hard.

So now we head over to see the sharks. Big, big tank with big, big sharks. Lots of sharks....in a big, big tank. Did I already say that? Yeah, big. Pretty awesome. But seeing them up close was a little disconcerting I must say. You get to see their sets of teeth. Many, many teeth -- many, many big, menacing-looking teeth -- ouch! They swim by the tank glass looking at us looking at them and they show us their teeth. Hmm? You think they're trying to tell us something? But I digress. These sharks are swimming to and fro; to and fro looking for meat. Specifically, human meat in the cage they can't get to. The cage in the tank where they submerge the adventurous so they can "swim" with the sharks and, of course, tease the hell out of them. At least that's what they advertise: do you dare swim with the sharks? Except it's false advertisement because you're not really swimming with the sharks. You're in a cage and rightly so because now you're in their territory and you need steel bars to protect you. I forgo the adventure; well, not much of an adventure there really. How about sticking them in there with only a spear to protect them? Now that would be swimming with the sharks! But I don't think it would be a good tourist attraction. It'd be fun for the sharks but a killer for the humans. So long, Buster, nice knowing ya!

Okay, enough of that, they're making me nervous. I need tranquility. We head over to the coral reef to see the multitude of beautiful, gorgeous fish that swim there. I love this tank. I love these fish. They're so pretty. I go by the tank and look into it like a kid with her eyes filled with wonder. Now, I know everyone around me was probably thinking I was strange and most likely thinking I got a day pass from the "special" home. But I don't care. I like fish. I want to be one of those beautiful fish that swims within the swaying, gentle sea gardens. What a nice life. No stress. Beautiful environment all the time that you don't have to upkeep yourself. You don't have to work for a living. You're fed all the time. Yeah, I like it here. Bright colored fish with art painted on them. Oh, they're so pretty! Art in motion. So beautiful and so very, very calming. I take pictures. I just sit and stare and dream I'm a fish....Dora the Explorer....no, wait, wrong one. Nemo...no, wait, he was a boy...I'm a girl. I give up, you get the picture.

My husband taps me on the shoulder, "Come on, enough of that, I'm gonna show you something really cool." He takes me to see the ever so colorful (*sarcasm*), so lively (*sarcasm*) piranhas. Not very attractive fish I must say. Actually ugly would be the adjective I'd best use. Yawn....I'm bored. Ugh! No pretty colors on them and they have too many teeth. Wait a minute, they don't swim? They're immobile in the water! Hmm? I wonder why? Will have to google it. I tell hubby I'm not impressed, I think they're ugly and I'm going back to the coral tank. He grabs my hand and leads me outside. We're walking over to the monkey cage. Three snow monkeys. Two grooming-obsessed monkeys grooming each other and one, lone, uninterested, smart monkey, trying to figure a way out. This monkey was entertaining. Spent all of his energy studying and inspecting the cage to see if there were any tears. He chewed on it to no avail; he moved it violently to no avail. Over and over again. Meanwhile, Ma and Pa Kettle were still grooming themselves oblivious to all of this and talking about their next meal.

And that is how I spent my day at the aquarium, going from tank to tank, cage to cage. And what did I learn? I learned that seals are smarter than us; they get stung by a bee, they leave, we stay. I learned that we are just a couple of bars away from being fish food; we just need that one shark that's had a really bad day. I learned to never accept and resign yourself to the cage people have built for you, get the hell out if you can. But, most of all, I learned that in the midst of darkness and danger, there is still much beauty to be found. Okay, so I had to put that one in.

I Missed My Plane, ergo A Tantrum

I just saw this on Bill Maher's show. It's unbelievable. I have never, ever seen a grown woman throw a tantrum. And why did she throw it? Because she missed her plane. The man trying to console her is apparently her husband. Poor man, that's all I have to say. She calls the airline personnel "inhumane" for not letting her board. Inhumane? What's inhumane is that poor husband having to live with her. That's inhumane!

CRAZY!!

Simian Love - WTF?

There is a photo challenge going around now in the blogsphere which is quite fun. The rules are these:

1. Open the 4th photo folder of your computer.
2. Choose the 4th photo of that folder & publish it on your blog.
3. Explain the photo.

Well, I just had to laugh. How apropos. Yes, I admit, I have a folder titled "Animals," which holds emails I get from friends who are animal lovers themselves and know what a sucker I am for a cute, cuddly face. And this picture was sent to me by a good friend who is an animal lover and knew I would just love them. She was right. This picture is one of a series of pictures showing the rescue mission of pandas caught in the earthquake that hit China last year. And these little fellas were lucky enough to be rescued.

And speaking of loving animals… the headlines this week are filled with the chimpanzee gone wild. It’s a very sad story really for all parties involved. A tragedy, first and foremost, for the woman who was injured and is now lying in a hospital bed fighting for her life. How does one recover from this? She will never be the same again. Travis, the ape – the 200 lb. ape - literally tore her face off. A coworker mentioned this morning that this poor woman has already endured 12-14 surgeries in the last two days. Tragic.

Fatal for Travis who went berserk (no one still knows why). Did he snap because he did not recognize the woman and was then trying to protect his owner? Was it a reaction of the Lyme Disease he had? Was it an adverse reaction to the Xanax the owner slipped into his tea to calm him down earlier in the day when he was beginning to show signs of aggression and restlessness? Obviously, there was already something wrong. But here's the thing. An ape is wild, folks. It is not and should not be kept as a domesticated pet, regardless of how cute it is. Because it is cute and can show docility, it does not mean it cannot be aggressive as his nature - his true instinctual nature - will sometimes reveal. It had no right to be living in a home with a human and passing off as a human-wannabe to humor its owner. An ape has no reasoning skills and, as such, we never know how they will react and thus cannot be surprised nor get upset at them when they show no "sense." The only person here who showed no reasoning skills or sense was the owner. Plain and simple. Black and white. And because of her irrational and poor choice, her beloved friend died in a most, horrible of ways...causing a most horrible of accidents.

A tragedy for the owner. What happened to this woman? We know she lost her husband and daughter and that in itself is a tragedy and trauma that one never recovers from. As a wife and mother, my heart goes out to her because I can empathize with her loss and how she might have gotten lost in the grief. It is very, very sad. But to attach yourself to an ape and use that ape as a surrogate husband/child? No. This woman needed psychiatric help because she had crossed that line between reality and fantasy a long time ago. Somewhere along the way this got very blurred for her and she no longer could distinguish what was "normal." She needed experts to help her deal with the grief because this abnormal impulse that she gave into clearly was not sane and took a fatal misdirection.

The newspapers each day reveal more and more into the life of this woman and her ape. She slept with him. She bathe with him. She drank wine with him. She fed him filet mignon. She kissed him on the lips. WTF? Listen, I love my daughter’s dogs with all of my heart, but if you think you’ll ever find me in a bathtub bathing with them, think again.

No. This woman needs a lawyer and needs a lawyer fast. Someone to tell her to shut the f*ck up because she is too candid and not helping her case at all because every time she opens her mouth she just seems to infuriate people more. The public does not seem to be sympathetic towards her; nor I. What happens if her friend dies, God forbid? What then? Is she held responsible for her death? I don’t know. Do any of you know? But what I do know is that by having that ape as a pet, she put herself and others at risk and it ended up being life-threatening (and let's pray not fatal) to her friend. That is the real tragedy here.

I ask, where were her friends and family? Couldn’t they be honest with her and help her seek help? Because there are times when the kid gloves need to come off and a loved one needs to be spoken to in a manner that brings it home. Whatever you have to do to bring it home. Maybe they did, I don't know. Maybe they did and she did not listen. But continue if you love her. This is not normal folks. Having a pet that you love and you take tender loving care of is one thing; living with a pet in a manner that smells of "partnership" and can be downright dangerous and uncontrollable is insane. Yeah, the time for kind words and understanding was over a long time ago. Somebody needed to tell her straight up to let the ape go and get herself to a shrink quick because that simian-human love thing was not cool, was not normal, and was f*cking insane. Seriously.

But if you ask me, I think Travis forgot he was a human substitute and was "supposed" to show "restraint." Please. He's an ape. Again, aggression is normal for him. Whether he was confused, frustrated or sick, no one knows. All I know is that another of his kind would have been able to handle him. They share the same dangerous strength; the share the same dangerous canine teeth; they speak the same language. And one more thing I can surely bet on. I don't think Travis wanted any wine, steaks, Xanax to calm him down, a clean bed, or bubble baths. No. He was not human. He did not care about these things. And he certainly was not supposed to be this woman's idea of a substitute husband or son. He was an ape with all of the perils that that entailed to herself and the public at large. But I bet you anything that Travis wanted nothing more than to roll around in dirt and get dirty, wanted nothing more than to be naked in his own glorious hairy self and not "dressed up" like a human, wanted nothing more than having fleas to pick at from another flea-ridden simian friend, wanted nothing more than trees to climb and swing from, and wanted nothing more than to be a true simian and eat shite like leaves, insects, bananas, fruits, nuts, and maybe even some small reptiles. Travis couldn't have cared less for steaks (as simians are primarily herbivorous animals) or wine. Trust me. And Travis would most probably had wanted a life with a nice, hairy jungle chimp to connect with in the normal sense like all species should do with their own. The ape, plain and simple, needed to be in his own habitat; not ours. But because everyone around Ms. Herold, the owner, condoned her bizarre behavior, this little simian-human love freak show turned into a tragedy.

And Saturday Night Live going to have a field day with this...

And if you want to read some little known facts on how strong and dangerous this "cute" little animal is, click here.

OLIO - Hodgepodge of This and That

So this is an OLIO post.

First and foremost, back on January 18th I was awarded The Lemonade Award by the lovely Lori of The Skoog Farm Journal for, in her words, "post(ing) and education for all of us." Thank you, Lori, for those kind words and I am blushing as I write this. Lori is terrific. We should all have a little Lori inside of us. She and her husband own an organic garlic and horse farm in upstate New York. Each day she posts pictures of the life and beauty of living on a farm. She has an array of beautiful horses and the cutest little dickens of pets (and you know me with pets!) that she tends to with much care and love in the most ungodly hours of the day and in the most brutal of weather! But, that is the life on a farm...there is no such thing as sleeping in nor of saying I will stay indoors today because it is too cold or wet to go outside. So this great woman has had my admiration from the first time I came upon her blog.


Then, on February 8th, cutie-pie and extremely talented Genie from Reality Insanity awarded me same award for "incredible writing" that makes her "skin and blood undulate with thrills!" Oh, Genie, the pressure! I have enough with the POD - LOL! If you are not one of Genie's followers and have not had the pleasure of looking into her site, well then wait no more. One click and you will be taken into a wondrous world of incredible beauty created by her prolific talented hands and mind. She consistently blows me away with her creativity and writing. And, Miss G, the POD....heeee's back!

So, now the rule is that I forward this award on. And, I will, but note there is no obligation to do anything with this award except accept it as a humble gift from me for having brought many smiles and pleasure into my life.

Catherine Mark-Beasant, an extremely good writer whose site I am addicted to because of originality of writing, ideas, and creativity. She has just received this same award by another blog member but, Cath, I bestow you another...you are that good!

Elliot over at Thaonawyuthe's Tsiske, who is posting an ongoing story in chapters. Love it. Well-written and each post engages you each and every time.

Shreve Stockton over at The Daily Coyote, who adopted a 10-day coyote that was left homeless. It now lives with her and her pets and is part of the family. An amazing story with beautiful, amazing pictures. Well, you know the deal with me and animals!

Next:
Mr. Stump, who won Best in Show! Ten year-old Stump beat all the other young pups, which just goes to show that one does get better as one gets older! Oh, yeah, those other little puppy-dogs had nothing on him! And is this not a face that you just want to kiss? I, like a besotted fool, was aww-ing and smiling and laughing with so much love all by my lonesome the day he won, filled with so much joy by this beautiful, beautiful face. Makes me want to go out and get me one.



And...


glad my girl, Adele, won for Best New Artist! Because she is! I first took note of her amazing voice and huge talent here and have been a huge, huge fan since.



(and before you go ahead and hit "play," make sure you turn off the music on my sidebar!).


And...chuffed that Coldplay won for Song of the Year and Best Rock Album, because they deserved it! And they rocked it Grammy night. Oh, yes, they did!

And, last but not least, she - SHE - reduced me to tears. Jennifer Hudson, singing You Pulled Me Through. Words that carried the true weight of its words for all that she went through last year. She received a standing ovation at the end and I am sure that all hearts that night felt the same: our admiration for her strength and our blessings that she continues to find peace; for she endured much.

And, that is it, my little chickadees....smooches and have a terrific week!

The Sad Girl on the Train

Courtesy of Deviant Art

She had boarded the 7 two stops before the tunnel. A young woman – perhaps 25 or so – that looked ordinary to anyone without a discerning eye. In a mosaic-filled city of people of different races, colors, heights, smells and levels of cordiality, after awhile, one no longer saw each as the unique contributing to the whole.

I sensed an air of desperation surround her, like a heavy cloak that she was tired of carrying. It was evident in her crystal eyes as they darted about looking for friendly territory; a friendly face with whom she could sit and feel safe and at ease with. It was evident in the way she struggled to breathe as her chest heaved up and down and she – she – trying so hard to keep it under control.

But more than that, I sensed the palpable fear that people might notice that she was not at comfort; that she was edgy and nervous and perhaps distressed. I wondered if she boarded the train in hopes of losing this - whatever it was that she was carrying - and transport it to another place, hoping to also hide herself within this passengered cab, where many where busy planning lives and menus and having mental conversations with figments, to even notice that she existed. And I felt for her.

She eyed an empty seat next to a middle-age woman dressed comfortably in jeans and a Navajo-patterned jacket. The woman wore her naturally blonde hair to the side in a thick braid tied by a thick, leather brown string. On her face, no makeup. The only thing she wore was a smile that exuded an air of friendliness and approachability. The young woman hesitated before proceeding to sit. Why had she done this, I wondered?

She sat down. She opened up her winter jacket and took off her scarf and gloves and shoved these in her tote bag that was currently resting on the floor between her legs. She sat for awhile distracting herself by reading the advertisements on the train - I'm sure a futile attempt at stilling her overwrought mind. She appeared nervous and jittery; her legs, in constant movement.

She looked at the blonde-haired woman. Was she friendly? Would it appear odd if she struck a conversation? Would she have the nerve to initiate it? I imagined the young woman imagining these things. Finally, "Cold weather we’re having, huh?" Would that illicit a welcome response? One that she could lose herself in? The blonde-haired woman gave her a warm smile and responded, "Yes. It's nippy indeed!" But nothing else.

The train was reaching the mouth of the tunnel. I noticed the young woman's eyes flash a hint of panic. It was evident in the way her body spoke - the legs began to move more rapidly, the shallow breathing had returned. We were now enclosed in a tube underground. I noticed the young woman's eyes close. Was she praying? The blonde-haired woman interrupted her thoughts, "Are you all right, Miss?"

The young woman turned to her, "What? Yes, I'm fine."

She looked upset. Upset that someone had noticed her distress and she could no longer hide.

We reached our next stop in line. The doors of the train opened. The young woman stepped off. Was it her stop, I wondered? That, I would never know.

As the doors closed I continued looking at her face. It was a face that I would never forget for it carried the emotions of a hard life within its young crevices. Away from prying eyes she at last crumpled to the floor, finally taking off the veil that covered her mounting distress. And it was then that I saw the tears pour freely from her eyes. It was then that I saw the pain that lived within in its full rawness.

No, this was not something birthed from a fear of trains. This was something else; something deeper, something more sinister. And this young woman - sad, distressed, and in obvious emotional pain -had found a conduit on which to lay the blame. And I felt for her.

******

A story birthed from an observation gathered many years ago.