On days like this, I think of a blue million things to write. My brain asks itself, what in the world should we write about this day? The question isn’t one of ambiguous searching. It is closer to, “There are a million stars in this sky we can see. How would you ever pick the best one?”
For one, I was reminded this morning that chameleons can move their eyes in two different directions. This amuses me. Mainly because it casts me into the evolution of that little bugger. At some point in the history of things, that chameleon must have had the ungodliest of predators. First, she developed a skin that could turn most any color. And that color would match whatever tree or leaf she was resting on. Incognito Chameleon.
Then, as if that were not enough, she developed these Marty Feldman eyes which can move about in multiple directions, just to keep an eye on things. I wonder what other tricks she has in her bag.
One little piece, one tiny little trinket, in our Universe. They are everywhere.
I also learned that on this date, way back in 1889, THE “Exposition Universelle” (World’s Fair) opened. In Paris. Of course, it coincided with the recently completed Eiffel Tower. It served as the entrance arch. And the whole celebration fell on the 100th Anniversary of the storming of the Bastille, which was considered symbolic of the beginning of the French Revolution. But the World’s Fair was enormous that year, with all sorts of attractions and curiosities. Like something called “Negro Village” with 400 people on display. Buffalo Bill and Annie Oakley were also there shooting things up. There was a model Aztec Temple. And the Imperial Diamond was on display. But I bet they didn’t have Corn Dogs. I’ve been to Paris. I have needed a Corn Dog in Paris, and they do not have them.
Oh yes. Just more fine information about our existence here in this swirl of things.
The World’s Fair reminded me of the Parish Fairs we used to have at Our Lady of Mercy grade school. They were always held on the upper playground. I loved the games, and the attractions. There were things kids were allowed to play. Games like throw-the-ping-pong-ball-in-the-little-gold-fish-bowls. And ring-the-neck-of- bottle. The grown-ups had games like the Roulette Wheel, Black Jack, and Hi-Lo. I wanted the place at the grown-up tables. Now? Either set of games would be fine with me.
We are all just rubbing shoulders here anyway, on this planet Earth. But sometimes we need to be reminded that we are not the only ones. Reminders like this Panda Bear.
I saw the video of this guy this morning. He is reveling in his bath, quite unlike anyone I have ever seen. He sits in this water, and soaks it all in. By the look on his face, I can confidently wager that there is no place else he would rather be. Then right there. In that moment. Dousing. And dousing.
Then here we are, on any given day, looking around at all the wondrous things to see. And we surely say, “There are a million stars in this sky we can see. How would you ever pick the best one?”
The Panda Bath.