A Story Even Dave Barry Won't Tell

It was the biggest, ugliest bug I had ever seen.

It looked like a very, very thin cocker spaniel with several extra legs grafted, Frankenstein-like, onto its body. It looked like a big plate of spaghetti that was in an awful hurry to get somewhere. It was the ugliest thing I had seen since Muhammed Ali's last comeback fight, or Ronald Reagan's plan for deficit reduction.

And I had to deal with it. All by myself. Alone.

Now, you might say to yourself that that should be no problem for somebody who was known in Grade Seven as The Monster Bug Killer of Bebe Rebozo High. I wouldn't know. But, if I ever meet somebody who was known as The Monster Bug Killer of Bebe Rebozo High, I'll be sure to ask.

So, here's this bug big enough to ask for my daughter's hand in marriage - and, I'm not making this up - it's heading straight for me! Naturally, I - well, actually, I am making this up. But, please, don't give me a hard time. I have a monthly quota: if I don't use the phrase "I'm not making this up" (or equivalent as dictated by local custom) often enough, Paul Tsongas comes to my house and explains America's financial woes for several excruciating hours.

And, I'm not making that up.

So, I'm confronted by a bug ugly enough to stop Big Ben (okay - I was reaching for that one), AND IT'S HEADED STRAIGHT FOR ME! Being a -

YOU: Hey! What's with the capital letters?

ME: It's just a device to emphasize something. I use it all the time.

YOU: I noticed. What's the deal?

ME: I think it gives my writing an importance and urgency that the subject I'm writing about rarely has.

YOU: Are you making that up?

ME: No, I'm not making that up.

YOU: I guess I have to believe it, then.

ME: Thanks. By the way, do you happen, just coincidentally - and, I'm prepared to swear in front of a Justice of the Peace that you are a total stranger and that, therefore, we've never before - to know how to deal with big, ugly bugs?

YOU: I send mine to Florida for the winter.

ME: Thanks.

So, this big, ugly bug is heading towards me and - silly me - I don't have my American Airlines vouchers handy. Being a Man In Good Standing (last time I checked - they don't have annual examinations, do they?) I did what any MIGS would do.

I fled to the kitchen.

Some people might call this cowardice. But, let me ask them this: when has the Congressional Medal of Honour ever been given to somebody wounded in battle against a bug? Even a big, ugly one? Not since the 1960s, I'll bet. (I've often said that that was the main problem with Congress, but people seem more concerned about check bouncing scandals. Funny priorities we have in this country.)

While in the kitchen, I decided to make an omelet. If I couldn't attack this bug (have I mentioned that it was big as well as ugly?) I COULD AT LEAST INVITE IT IN FOR BREAKFAST. I FIGURED IF WE COULD TALK THINGS OUT, MANO A BUGGO, WE MIGHT BE ABLE TO COME TO SOME AGREEMENT. I WAS PERFECTLY HAPPY TO GIVE UP THE LIVINGROOM IF IT WOULD LET ME KEEP THE BEDROOM, AND WE COULD WORK OUT SOME KIND OF SCHEDULE TO SHARE THE BATHR

Sorry. I wasn't trying to emphasize anything in that paragraph - my caps lock key jammed.

When I returned to where the bug had been in order to ask if it liked catsup in its omelet, it was gone. I guess it sensed the virile strength that comes with being a Man In Good Standing, and realized that if it was still there when I came out, I would deal swiftly and mercilessly with it.

And, I'm not making that up.