Tuesday, March 17, 2009

It's all happening at the zoo...

If one is to believe the lyrics of a song that once reached #16 on the Billboard Hot 100, someone once told Paul Simon "It's all happening at the zoo." He did believe it, but I remain a bit skeptical. After all, "all" is a rather all-encompassing term. All right?

Nevertheless, digging deep into Mr. Simon's lyrics is not what this space is intended for. Today, we're here for something important (as opposed to most days, where we're here for random drivel and inside jokes*). Today, we're here to delve into detail about a trip to the local zoo. (See how important that is? The Writings: We're here to make a difference.)

*Can it be deemed an inside joke if you're the only one that finds it funny? Food for thought...

Before I get too far, I must clarify one thing: I'm not the weird guy that goes to the zoo alone. I may be a guy and I may be weird (something has to explain the sheer delight I get out of watching bad movies, right?), but I'm still not the lonesome zoo-goer. Hopefully that does not come as a big surprise to anyone. (If it does, I may need to reexamine things.) No, this trip to the zoo was a special occasion. Members of my family and I chose to take advantage of the Spring Break/spring weather combination by giving my diminutive niece her first zoological park experience in her seven months of Earthly existence.

Alas, it seems we were not the only folks in the Little Apple that considered this day to be fit for exploration of animals. In fact, when we arrived the parking lot to said zoo was packed tighter than Comic Book Guy's favorite t-shirt, forcing a slew of vehicles to park along the street leading to the parking lot. Whether or not any arguments reminiscent of the Seinfeld episode "The Parking Space" resulted from this bloated parking lot situation, I can neither confirm nor deny. We were able to land a spot in the main lot.

Once inside (Yes, the zoo is outside, but we were inside the perimeter walls of the zoo. This is getting confusing, and I'm the one writing it. I apologize profusely.), our clan witnessed a bevy of animals.* Unfortunately, it seemed that most animals were pining for a return of cooler weather. The sun-shiny 80-degree temperatures forced most creatures into shady portions of their habitats, where they exhibited about as much energy as the average Post-It note. While it was a nice opportunity to view animals not native to the area**, their collective state of torpor left a bit to be desired.

*If this sentence states anything more than the obvious to you, you should probably get out more. It's a zoo, of course we saw a lot of animals.

**While the squirrels running rampant around town may provide momentary distractions for people with attention spans as short as mine, it's somewhat impressive to see a tiger that is not animated and advertising a frosted breakfast cereal.

In the midst of studying all these animals, I also found a bit of time observe some of the homo sapien species, as well. Those familiar with The Writings* know that "People in your neighborhood" are occasionally featured in this literary grove.

*Whether or not that qualifier is synonymous with "those with entirely too much time on their hands," is currently being researched.

The zoo provided a couple of fine candidates for such study. Consider the following:

- The third wheel
I have been the third wheel. I have been the third wheel several times. I've also been the fifth wheel, the ninth wheel, the 17th wheel, and the (insert odd number here)th wheel. I have plenty of experience providing social situations with an awkward axle alignment, yet I have never been the third wheel at a zoo. For this, I'm thankful. You see, as an experienced third wheel, I feel I have an excellent grasp for determining what environments are conducive to the third wheel situation. Movies (as long as the triad strays from chick flicks... high school Derek was not so fortunate) are excellent third wheel situations. Once the show starts, the third wheel's attention can be focused on the screen for 90 minutes. There's no worry of playing witness to "couple-y" dialect (including all derivations of "schmoopy"). All that matters is what's on screen. (And possibly how much popcorn you have left.)

The zoo, on the other hand, is where third wheels hit bumpy terrain. While the open environment of the zoo is great for spreading out and providing topics of conversation ("Did that chimp just make an obscene gesture?), things get dicey when the couples choose to act like couples. As was the case with the 3W* situation today, once the public displays of affection come about, the wheelie has two options.

1) He can distance himself from the couple, checking out zoo exhibits at his own pace. Granted, this may keep others from realizing that he is, in fact, a third wheel, along minimizing the awkward situations that present themselves in the presence of PDA, but this also brings the risk of people misidentifying you as "the weird guy that goes to the zoo alone."

2) He can trail two steps behind the couple, seemingly in position to run "Red Rover" through their interlocked hands at any point. Occasionally he'll sidle up to the couple and make a remark about something, but before long he's back to pulling caboose duty.

The third wheeler today chose option 2. Remember kids, third wheeling at the zoo is bad news.

*3W = third wheel. That's insider terminology. Now you can't say you didn't learn anything today.**

**You can, however, say that what you learned was made up by the author and really serves no practical purpose.



-The overwhelmed mom
Although this deals with an overwhelmed mother, you won't identify this woman by searching for the lady who is tearing her hair out. No, to find the overwhelmed mother, you will first need to find the pack of young children running wildly. Truth be told, you will probably hear them before you see them. Listen for a medley of high-pitched squeals containing the following, "I wanna see the monkeys," "Mom, are there any snakes?" "When can we get ice cream?" and "Mommmmmm, I gotta pee!" Once you hear this racket, step aside quickly and watch as this swarm of three-to-ten-year-olds zips past you down the walking path. Once they have past and are out of sight, count to six and then turn to look in the direction the flock of youths had come from. See the woman slowly pushing an empty stroller and carrying a large purse with five different half-full (half-empty, she'd argue) beverage bottles sticking out? Yeah, the one that looks as if she might consider hiding in the wallaby habitat for a few weeks. That's the overwhelmed mom.


Naturally, the being most worth observing on this day was one of the youngest in the place. Although my niece spent a large portion of the journey wearing a cap that was too large and pretty much limited her viewing options to the underside of a pink cap bill, she seemed to enjoy the trip. Sure, she paid no attention to any of the animals (aside from the goat we fed while holding her near. At this, her eyes turned a bit quizzical. I couldn't tell if she was wondering what type of crazy dog she was encountering (since canines are the only animals she's really interacted with before) or trying to figure out if we'd witness a live birth from this very pregnant animal. Seriously, it looked as if it should have been on bed rest.), but she spent much of the walkabout with a toothy (well, two-toothed) grin on her face. I'm guessing she'll show a bit more interest in future zoological ventures, but today's will always be her first. And she was at least a bit more lively than the wildlife.

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