To Buzz, Or Not To Buzz... There Is No Question

As a general rule, anything with more than four legs gives me the creeps.  There are a few exceptions.  Ladybugs.  Lightning bugs.  Butterflies.  My working theory is that it is because those bugs hide their legs pretty well.  In the case of fireflies, I mean come on now.  They light up.  How can you not like those?


I am a big guy.  Aside from the few examples above, most bugs/critters give me the heebie-jeebies.  No lie.  I'll be the first to point out a spider if there's someone else in the room.  Then I will act like I'm in the middle of something terribly important in hopes that someone will take the initiative to clear the room of the offending visitor.  


A neighbor caught me as I was getting out of my car today and asked if I would help her and her daughter.  Ever the good Samaritan, I said of course.  They believed they had heard a cicada in one of their bedrooms.  How ironic.  I would likely have been flagging down neighbors if I heard a cicada in my own place.  But, I put on a brave face and went to work.  Had I found the cicada, I would have put aside my cowardice, stifled a scream, and dispatched the unwanted guest.  As it turned out, I could find nothing (and yes, I really tried to, in case you're wondering).  I assured her that if it was, in fact, a cicada, it was probably the last one alive in Nashville, since they died off a couple of weeks ago.  So it wouldn't be flying around the room.


Cicadas are strange creatures.  This is the second time in the last five or six years that I've been around for what I call a cicada "convention".  When I lived in Ohio, we had had a variety of cicada known as the 17 year  cicada.  This meant that every 17 years, they would emerge from underground in massive numbers.  I happened to be there for the big event before I moved out of the state a couple of years later.  


They are incredibly noisy bugs, especially when they number in the thousands and thousands.  And they are hideously ugly.  Big orange eyes.  About 2 inches long or bigger.  


I'm no entomologist, but in my opinion, they are the stupidest bug on the planet.  You will see one just buzz along, fly directly into a building or a person, fall to the ground and buzz angrily.  Maybe they don't see well.  I'm no optometrist either.


Yet at the same time, some of them are quite stealthy.  You can have one land on your shirt and not even realize it until you happen to look down, scream like a little girl, jump up and down and flail your arms wildly to brush it off.  Of course, I have only witnessed this with other people.  Ahem.  Anyway, where was I?  Oh yes.  The good thing about them is they only live about 3 weeks, then disappear for another 17 years.  


Well, fast forward five or six years and I happen to be in Nashville when it comes time for their 13 year cicadas to make an appearance.  They were even worse than the ones in Ohio.  I could be driving down a tree-lined street, windows up, A/C on, radio on, and I could still hear them buzzing in the trees.  Unbelievable.  That was about a month ago when they were in full swing, so it's all still fresh in my memory.  


Here is a picture of one of the little darlings:  

It should be noted that this is not my photo, and therefore not my hand in it.  The scenario in this picture would never occur,  unless I were heavily sedated.


Now, imagine yourself seeing these things by the hundreds on a daily basis.  Then imagine yourself sitting down with a cup of coffee and reading the newspaper and run across an article entitled "Nashville Residents Cook, Eat Cicadas".


Say what???


"Adventurous eaters in Nashville said they are feasting on the 13-year cicadas that have emerged in the region" the article states.  It goes on to feature a couple who decided to try eating cicadas after they heard about other people enjoying them.


Okay.  I hear about a lot of things that people enjoy.


I've heard about the polar bear clubs whose members find an icy river in the middle of winter, strip to their bloomers, and dive into the frigid water.


I've heard about people that go to clubs just to be suspended in the air by their body piercings.  


If this is something people enjoy and they do not force anyone to join, then I say great.  Have a wonderful time.


Have I ever said to myself after hearing of people enjoying such activities that I should probably try them?  Hell no.


You would be just as likely to see me on a 20 degree day in January climbing out of an icy river in my skivvies, or hanging like a side of beef from metal hooks in my back, as you would be to see me sitting down to dinner with a plate of sauteed insects.  


......  Um.  I think I blacked out for a second.  I was having a vision of someone hanging from their shoulder skin inside of a walk-in freezer, wearing nothing but their underwear, and feasting on cicadas.   That would sure be a time saver if you were really adventurous, wouldn't it?  Three activities in one?  That is some good time management right there. 


Anyway.  Apparently the couple in the article prepared their cicadas with butter and garlic.


There ain't enough butter and garlic in the world, people.  I'm just sayin'.


Here's the article link, in case anyone is interested.  Or thinks I'm lying.  


http://www.upi.com/Odd_News/2011/05/27/Nashville-residents-cook-eat-cicadas/UPI-64531306485000/


I lived in Ohio the first 37 years of my life.  If people ate cicadas there, it wasn't in the newspaper where I lived.  I don't know if that speaks to anything as far as the difference between Ohio and Tennessee.  I will say, however, that if someone made up an official hunting season for cicadas, two-thirds of the men I knew would have been out in the woods on opening day and probably would have developed a taste for them.  Those boys liked to hunt.


So, needless to say, cicadas don't fall into the same category as cute little ladybugs and colorful butterflies in my world.  Not many things do, to tell the truth.


I told my neighbor to call if her little friend made an appearance and I would come to the rescue.  Secretly I am hoping my phone doesn't ring.  But if it does, I'll man up and go take care of business.  I hope I'm not hungry when she calls.