The Revolting World of Invertebrates

It's official: I have lost my stomach for nature shows. Watching an old VCR tape my father made of David Attenborough's series "Life on Earth." Sir David -- smart, articulate, curious, game! This episode was on invertebrates and offers excellent background on many of the specimens we had in our family museum, which is no doubt why Gene taped it. (Incidentally, Sir David also had a museum as a child, as we did in our household). Starts out nicely with fossil brachiopods, abundant in the Devonian limestone of Ohio where I grew up. Then, an unfortunate and protracted diversion into living ancestors thereof. Dear Reader, I had to divert my eyes. O, the horrible, writhing, gelatinous forms, so fundamentally oral and anal and motile! I'm talking about flatworms and snails and mollusks and larvae, even sea cucumbers. All of which were making me feel distinctly queasy. On to a brief but fascinating equation of fossil crinoids with modern-day sea stars, starfish, sea urchins, und so weiter, followed by repeated and disturbing close-ups of the ghastly thicket of tentacles (anchored by a sinister pinhole eye) that comprise the visible bodily form of a nautilus, whose whorled shell is familiar from relatives way back in the Triassic, and which propels itself via eructations of gas. The horror, the horror! And then an exploration of the beloved trilobite, whose shape we so eagerly sought among the rocks as kids, which is essentially a segmented muck puppy, oh-so-much more appealing in its fossilized form. The spherical, compound eye an amazing invention, but what was there to look at down there? After that -- still watching the episode in deference to my departed father -- some creatures molted and then Sir David picked up a horseshoe crab (later view of horseshoe crab orgy on the beach) and several other creatures with ferocious claws. Eventually, thank goodness, it was over, though not before some preview footage of the next episode on masses of swarming and masticating insects. Well. At least they don't undulate.

Winter Friends

Winter is finally settling in, mostly juncos in the yard along with the cutie pine siskins. This year my regular visitors include Harry (hairy woodpecker) and Rufus (canyon towhee with a ruffled rufous cap). Plus a scrub jay. Ravens are keeping more of a distance since I took away the bird bath -- I got sick of coming home to find their carrion marinating there. I am happy for the company, everybody I know seems busy these days. Long weekend of unstructured time was welcome, I need that, but done with it by this afternoon, new year blues perhaps, so guess it'll be good to show up at work tomorrow.

First Day of 2011

January 1, 2011 in Santa Fe - Cold and snowy here, more snow on the mountains than I ever remember seeing. Green chile & chicken enchiladas are in the oven, litta bitta accordion music playing. I've been watching VCR tapes recorded by my dad many years ago. In A Fish Called Wanda, John Cleese's barrister dances the polka with Jamie Lee Curtis's character before he ravishes her. That's my kind of man. Sidebar: JLC came to look at photos at the Getty when I was there and she passed notes with the conservators, highly amusing. Speaking of California, I started writing my book about the magical, transformative power of polka music: How I Discovered the Underground Polka Scene in Los Angeles and Learned to Fly. Have a zesty new year!