I have come to look at the extinction of the dinosaurs in a whole new light.
Over the last few years with Global Warming, or the natural earth cycle, whatever it is, the weather patterns have been crazy. Snow when there shouldn’t be snow. Rain where there never has been rain. No rain where there always has been. Golf ball size hail is common and baseball size is not unheard-of in pretty much any weather disturbance.
Let me share this conversation I had with my Neighbor, a few days back;
“No… It wasn’t raining, it had finished raining, it was in between the end of raining and drying up. There were hardly any of those little plop things in the puddles.”
“Plop things,” I asked?
“Yeah, you know where the rain drop falls in and makes the little circle things that go out and… well they are sort of like little tiny waves, rolling across the surface of a tiny little Ocean….” He got a faraway look in his eyes and fell silent.
“Uh, Bob?” his name is Bob.
“You kind of zoned out there,” I told him. “But I understand the thing about the plop… I think…” he started to speak. “No, I do. I do understand it completely.”
Bob nodded. “Good… It’s kind of hard to explain… Did you ever wonder if there’s tiny little life down there… you know and the mud puddle to them really is an ocean… and.” He looked up, smiled and cleared his throat. “Well, you know.”
“Uh… sure… Once or twice I think… So, uh, you were saying about the hail?”
In between us a raccoon that lived in the woods behind us lay dead… Presumably dead. I had not checked for a pulse or attempted mouth-to-mouth, but it had been hit in the head with a chunk of hail roughly the size of a hardball while crossing from Bob’s property to mine. Bob had seen the whole thing, come over and got me away from my typing long enough to come out and look at the raccoon and the chunks of ice that had fallen from the sky. I looked up now. Not entirely sure more wouldn’t fall. I was not a raccoon, but I was sure a chunk of ice that big could probably kill me to.
“Yeah… Got me spooked too,” Bob said, and looked up at the sky.
“So…” I asked looking back down.
“Yeah, well… So I was coming out of the shed, getting some pots for my clippings for next spring, sun has to shine eventually, and here comes Martha (Martha was his pet name for the Raccoon) probably thinking I had a treat for her. So I’m fixing to get the peanuts out of my pocket, I keep them for her… You know, they were on sale two years ago at the A&P, so I bought three cases of them.” He seemed to lose himself for a moment.
“Yeah… The A&P does have some good deals,” I allowed. I was glad it was not me eating three year old peanuts.
“Oh yeah. Last week they had Captain Crunch… She likes that too… I didn’t have any Captain crunch in my…”
Martha farted and Bob jumped back three feet.
“God!” Bob declared. Nothing else happened for a few moments and Bob looked up at me. “You suppose?”
“Just a natural thing,” I said. It had made me jump too though. Not pleasant to think that after you pass you’ll still be passing. The thought almost made me laugh which Bob would have taken the wrong way so I bit it back and listened as he resumed talking.
He had bent down and picked up a large hardball sized chunk of ice. There were several close by her, but he fixed on the one. “So she’s coming and the rain’s letting up, and, well, did you know she don’t like the rain? I think most raccoons are like that. They don’t like the rain. So… Where was I?”
“The rain,” I said reluctantly. It had been my chance to speed it up by telling him he was telling me about the hail hitting her in the head and I had blown it.
“Right, the rain… Hmm… Oh,” he snapped his fingers, “That’s how I know it was done raining. She wouldn’t have come out other wise.”
Martha farted again.
Bob looked offended, but neither of us jumped this time. “You think she’s just gonna keep doing that,” Bob asked?
I shrugged… “Maybe,” I allowed.
“Whoooeee,” Bob said fanning his face.
I was right in the blast zone, but managed to hold my breath long enough for it to drift over to Bob.
Bob shuffled a little sideways. “Must have been the Captain Crunch.” We both stood silent for a few moments, staring down at the dead, farting raccoon.
“So,” I said at last.
Bob looked puzzled.
“Uh, the hail…. The accident… Poor Mable,” I gestured at the dead raccoon.
“Oh… Oh…” Bob said. “Martha… It’s Martha,” Bob said.
“Sorry, Bob. Martha,” I repeated.
Bob Nodded. “Well, anyways, dropped right out of the sky and conked her right in the frigging’ head.” He nodded.
I nodded for him to continue.
“Oh… That’s it. Conked her in the head. Fell right down… Never said nothing after that. Not even a … a … Well, what ever a raccoon would say after getting hit with a chunk of ice.”
I nodded. Mister sympathy. Martha farted again. Bob made a face and shifted a little sideways.
“I suppose she would have said something like. Well, if racoons could talk. I know they can’t, I’m just saying, she might have said something like … ‘Son of a bitch that hurt!’ or ‘My God that was a big chunk of ice!’ but she never said a word at all. Just bang in the head and she dropped in her tracks… Just like you see her.” Martha farted once more as if to punctuate Bob’s words. “Had to be the Captain Crunch.,” Bob said quietly. “Well, anyhow,” Bob continued un-prompted, “Hail? Hail the size of a baseball? In Spring? Up here?” Bob was tossing the question marks around like he had a pocket full of them instead of peanuts.
I nodded. “I’ve never seen it,” I agreed. And I hadn’t in my fifty plus years of living in upstate New York.
“I been here all my eighty two years,” Bob said. “Never seen nothing’ like it… Hail the size of baseballs…”
Martha twitched, farted again and then raised her head slowly from the ground.
“Son of a bitch,” Bob said.
I muttered something a little more colorful.
Martha looked over at Bob, then swung her head around at me, managed to get her feet under her and wobbled a few steps.
“Son of a bitch,” Bob repeated. I must confess I repeated a few of those colorful words too.
Martha wobbled a few more times, let loose of one more long high-pitched fart, and then waddled over to Bob. Bob just stared down at her stupidly for a moment and then reached into his pocket and came out with a handful of lint covered peanuts. I stood and watched for a few moments as Bob fed her, but I hate to see old men cry so I kind of faded into the background. Besides, I’m pretty sure Bob forgot I was there.
My point is, Global warming, or whatever it is, is ruining the world. Making it a tough place to live in. I envision the whole dinosaur extinction as going something like this.
Fred the dinosaur is standing in his yard staring down at a tiny, dead little human. His buddy Ralph happens by.
Ralph: “So, what’s up there, Fred? Got your self a little meal there?”
Fred looks up and frowns. “No. It was my little friend,” He turns and points towards the cliffs a short way away. “Lives over there… Comes out every day or so… Likes those little furry things with horns?” He looks at Ralph and Ralph nods.
“I think they call them ‘Furry things with four feet,’” Ralph supplied.
It was Fred’s turn to nod. “Yeah, so, anyway, I keep one around, you know, they’re easy to catch. And I leave some for him…”
“And, “ Ralph prompted?
“And, the ice just fell out of the sky and bashed him in the head…”
“Well, you could eat him,” Ralph said. “Seems a waste to…”
The human rolled over, farted and looked up at Fred.
“Son of a bitch,” Fred said. “And you wanted to eat him.”
“Well… You could still eat him,” Ralph said.
“You make me sick sometimes,” Fred said. He shuffled over to the human, carefully helped him to his feet and steered him towards the pile of meat he had left for him.
“You know, just blue skying it here, Fred. But let’s suppose this whole weather thing is a … a … A harbinger of things to come? More bad weather? You know… What, Fred, If it’s the end for us? As a species!”
Fred strode across the short distance, flicked his tail and knocked Ralph off his feet. “You are over reacting, Ralph. Where do you get theses crazy ideas from?”
Ralph picked himself up, glancing over at the human who seemed to be amused by the whole situation. “Just repeating what they say. They say maybe our time is through and soon the world will be left to the humans. Imagine… Us extinct,” Ralph finished.
Fred laughed, a loud roar that caused the human to shrink back. “Nonsense! Humans take over the world? Where do you hear these things?”
And… That was probably it right there. The beginning, same as it is for us. Maybe two million years from now there will be a couple of cockroaches standing out in their adjoining yards…
“So, Darren, did you see that chunk of ice that dropped out of the sky?”
Hey, have a good week! Dell Sweet.