We’ve Come Back
I cannot allow the Halloween edition of this paper to pass without raising the alarm about something truly terrifying. As a horror movie fan, I am familiar with many of the things that fill us with revulsion, feed our nightmares and quite possibly originate from paid government scientists playing in God’s domain.
I had no idea what that terrible thing was until I arrived home last Monday night.
And there they were, waiting on me like the world’s most unwelcome and uninvited annual house guest, one of the things that truly fills me with irritation and dread every indian summer.
The Return of the Asian Lady Beetles.
There were hundreds on my doorframe, daring me to open the front door and allow them their winter holiday in the nooks and crannies of my home.
As a child, perhaps, I may have loved them. I cannot recall. Was there a moment in my past when I had kind thoughts about them? Referred to them with the adoring nickname of Ladybugs?
I’m sorry. I’ve been through too many years of those reddish vermin with their oh so perky little black spots invading my home every year.
Harbingers of luck, some say?
Insects of the Damned! I say.
Resistance is futile. If you don’t let them in – and I don’t – they will find their way inside. It is in this one fact that these beetles exceed even vampires in their capacity for evil.
Vampires cannot cross the threshold of your home uninvited. But these Asian Lady Beetles — Please, these beetles are no ladies — they ease their way in as if they own the place.
I see them lounging in the warm sunlight of my windows like wintering retirees in Florida.
I am often skeptical of the accusation of government conspiracy as it is applied to, say, alien abduction or water flouridation. But I have definitive, internet-based proof that this invasion is clearly a government conspiracy.
According to the University of Kentucky’s own Department of Agriculture, “During the 1960s to 1990s, the U.S. Department of Agriculture attempted to establish the Asian lady beetle to control agricultural pests, especially of pecans and apples. Large numbers of the beetles were released in several states including Georgia, South Carolina, Louisiana, Mississippi, California, Washington, Pennsylvania, Connecticut and Maryland.”
Of course, THEY then go straight to denial after that: “No such releases were ever attempted in Kentucky, and their occurrence here is probably due to northward migration from other southern states.”
The bold print and italics is their doing, not mine. Isn’t it obvious? THEY have something to hide.
Not only do we have proof of government conspiracy, but clearly this is tampering in God’s domain.
Seriously. How many times have well-meaning agriculture “experts” caused worse havoc by importing non-native species to control other insect pests. In this matter I am prepared to unleash my inner conservative. This is a project that didn’t need to be funded!
Now we pay the price.
My cats won’t eat them. Birds don’t touch them. They’re impossible to crush and leave a foul yellow stench behind.
I called my pest exterminator and he just shrugs his shoulders.
“There’s nothing you can do but vaccuum up the bodies when they die,” he says.
And I am left to surrender my home to these invaders like unwelcome in-laws and check really closely that that little bump on my steak is only a red peppercorn.
The horror. The horror.
A Brief Eulogy for Lou Reed
I am not yet ready to accept that I am of an age where my pop music idols die of natural causes.
Monday morning, I was grieved to hear the news that Lou Reed died at age 71 from liver complications. I have been a fan of his music since high school. Though he was never a major music star, thank God, he was very influential. To hear of his “natural” death – I know, the liver damage was the price of an overly self-indulgent lifestyle – registers on me like a younger friend of mine once reacted to a high school marching band playing 90s grunge rock.
I am not that dang old, yet!
I’m not committing this entire space to a Lou Reed eulogy. I’m a fan of his work but I don’t harbor illusions that I’ll convert others to his fan base. Lou Reed is an acquired taste at best. For the curious, or those with a taste for the off-beat, here is one of my favorite songs.