By Scott Sullivan
Editor
Buggy
I’m moving to Japan, where they keep bugs as pets. Not just fleas as a corollaries to dogs and cats — real insects.
“Japanese people,” reports Yuri Kageyama for the Associated Press, “appreciate the glitter of fireflies let loose in the garden or the gentle chirping of crickets kept in a little cage.
“The bug as companion is an essential part of what’s observed, enjoyed and cared for in everyday life, reflecting a deeply rooted celebration of humankind’s oneness with nature,” she goes on.
First I’ll buy a ranch for my horseflies. Feed them hay, hire tiny jockeys to race them, make a fortune and give it all back buying shoes for my centipedes.
I’ll name my beetles John, Paul, George and Ringo, crickets Buddy Holly, gnats Natalie, plus carpenter ants and waterstriders Jesus. Puff would be my magic dragonfly and my maggots could all join MAGA.
Some kids studied for A’s in school but I was content with bees. My best uncles were all ants. I may get the itch for pet mosquitoes and ticks, who I know will stick close to me.
“One thrill with studying insects,” writes Kageyama, “is discovering a new species, because there are more than 1.2 million known kinds, which translates into a lot of undiscovered ones.”
Imagine discovering termites in your woodwork, roaches in your marijuana stash or bats in your belfry, looking for insect treats. What a thrill.
The Japanese also eat insects, with locusts simmered in soy sauce and sweet cooking sake. “Don’t knock it until you’ve tried it!” writes Tokyo Cheapo (The Ultimate Guide to Tokyo). Yes, this is the place for me.
Though it will be a long flight from there to the Pullman Tavern, my insects with wings can fly alongside the plane and others take horsefly-pulled buggies.
“Looks like you brought some friends,” said Zeke the Bartender as we buzzed, walked and flew in.
“Zeke,” I said. “Meet Kafka the Cockroach, Charlotte the Hornet and Dennis the Grasshopper.”
“My pleasure,” said Zeke, looking doubtful. “What’ll it be for you?”
“Blatz for me,” I said. “Dung for Kafka, tree bark for Charlotte and leaves for Dennis.
“We only serve white Anglo-Saxon Protestants here,” said Zeke.
“Then paper for my WASP …”
“Get them out!” he demanded.
“But Zeke, they’re my only friends. Otherwise, I’d be one of the 700,304 Michiganders who live in constant loneliness, per a Vertical Cherry online survey.”
“Based on what?” he asked.
“A panel of 3,002 nationwide respondents.”
“How did they arrive at exactly 700,304 Michiganders based on that?”
“Wait, there’s more,” I said. They have precise numbers and percentages for all 50 states. For instance, Michigan’s 27 percent who are ’always’ lonely compares with 9 percent in neighboring Indiana. I grew up there, but as soon as I crossed the state line I got three times lonelier.”
“That doesn’t add up,” Zeke said. “Constantly lonely is not a variable. Either you are or aren’t. Plus I thought you moved to Japan.”
“I did,” I said, “to find friendship,” I explained
“So why’d you come back?”
“My new buds … I mean, bugs … and I flew direct into Pullman International so I could introduce you. Plus I couldn’t find Blatz on tap there.”
“Well, you can fly straight back,” he said. “And put out those fireflies!”
Back at my bug ranch in Yokohama, I prayed with my mantises for a tavern that exemplifies a deeply-rooted celebration of humankind’s oneness with nature and serves Blatz too.
