Trip to the Aquarium

So this weekend hubbie and I went to the aquarium. Nice little place, the aquarium. Very colorful, very tranquil. In my next life I'd like to be a fish in an aquarium. Not just any fish, though. I'd like to be one of those pretty, bright colorful fish that swims within the coral reefs of an aquarium. Now you ask: why not a fish that swims within the coral reefs of an ocean? You have an entire ocean, more freedom, it's more natural. Well, because in the ocean, there is a very high probability that my life would be cut considerably short by an even bigger fish than me who is hungry for dinner. And I would find that a little stressful.

So we go to the aquarium with my brother and sister-in-law - funny little pair those two, very entertaining, very nice. I like nice people. So we decide to go and see the seal show. We go to see Java the seal perform superior tricks because this is what one does when one goes to one of these places. Java the seal seems like he weighs 2 to 3 times my weight and no wonder, they keep feeding him fish every time he does a trick. Now I ask: Why can't I be fed every time I do a trick? But I digress. We're watching Java earn his meal. Java strikes a pose. Now Java waves to the crowd. Hey, Java dances! Ok, I'm bored, I've seen this before, show me a new trick. How about Java speak human language? Can Java do that? Have Java say, "Please, Sir, may I have some more?" a la Oliver Twist. Now that would impress me! But no, this crowd seems to be quite pleased with his low-level performance and so Java doesn't quite reach his potential, if you ask me. If they think Java is so wonderful and magnificent, then these people have set their bars really low and expect very little from the universe.



But while Java is doing his superwonderful, amazing tricks and keeping the crowd entertained, I notice there is an annoying little bee buzzing within my area of comfort. I tend to notice these things. He happily bumbles around and buzzes around people that are too busy watching the overfed Java do tricks to even notice him. So I'm watching this bee. And this bee, I'm sure, is watching me. And then he does it: the little bastard stings me! Right on the back of my neck. Well I, of course, scream and jump around like a girl. Yes, like a girl because I am a girl. And I inadvertently hit my husband and the man sitting on the other side of me. My neighbor, not at all appreciative of my sudden dance movements, proceeds to move as far away from me as possible while mumbling under his breath something to the effect that I was rude to have hit him. My husband tells me to calm down and that I'm imagining things. I show him my welt. I point to the bee. I'm still imagining, he says. Of course he's right and I'm wrong. I'm just a silly girl who is overreacting so what do I know? The people behind me stare in disbelief -- what is wrong with this woman? To this, supportive hubz jumps on the opportunity to further cement these people's misguided and, may I add, unrequested opinion of me, and shrugs as if to say, yes, this is her normal and this is my life. Meanwhile, Java is looking in my direction wondering what the commotion is all about and not at all pleased that I am stealing his spotlight and probably thinking that he will now have to share his fish. Listen, you no-talent leech, I don't want your fish, so relax. Meanwhile, the turistas, my brother and his beloved, are being so entertained by Java that they miss the real show behind them - namely, me and the bee. Really, they live here and act like a couple of tourists with the camera, with the oohhs and aahhs. Embarrassing. But I digress. I then notice the bee heading towards Java. I see this. No one else does, but I do. And the bee starts to annoy Java; Java tries to shoo him away. It doesn't work. The bee stings Java. Now Java jumps into the water and the show is over. Ohhh, boo-hoo, too bad, so sad! And now everybody is upset and concerned about Java. Everybody is upset and concerned that he got stung by a bee. Me? I laugh. I laugh real hard.

So now we head over to see the sharks. Big, big tank with big, big sharks. Lots of sharks....in a big, big tank. Yeah, big. Pretty awesome. But seeing them up close was a little disconcerting I must say. You get to see their sets of teeth. Many, many teeth -- many, many big, menacing-looking teeth - ouch! They swim by the tank glass looking at us looking at them and they show us their teeth. Hmm? You think they're trying to tell us something? But I digress. These sharks are swimming to and fro; to and fro looking for meat. Specifically, human meat in the cage they can't get to. You know, the cage in the tank where they submerge the adventurous so they can "swim" with the sharks. At least that's what they advertise: do you dare swim with the sharks? Except it's false advertisement because you're not really swimming with the sharks. You're in a cage and rightly so because now you're in their territory and you need steel bars to protect you. I forgo the adventure; well, not much of an adventure there really. How about sticking them in there with only a spear to protect them? Now that would be swimming with the sharks! But I don't think it would be a good tourist attraction. It'd be fun for the sharks but a killer for the humans. So long, Buster, nice knowing ya!

Okay, enough of that, they're making me nervous. I need tranquility. I head over to the coral reef to see the multitude of beautiful, gorgeous fish that swim there. I love this tank. I love these fish. I want to be one of those beautiful fish that swims within the swaying, gentle sea gardens. What a nice life. No stress. Beautiful environment. You don't have to work. You're fed all the time. Yeah, I like it here. Bright colored fish with art painted on them. Oh, they're so pretty! Art in motion. So beautiful and so very, very calming. I love it here. I take pictures. I just sit and stare and dream I'm a fish....Dora the Explorer....no, wait, wrong one. Nemo...no, wait, he was a boy...I'm a girl. I give up, you get the picture.

My husband taps me on the shoulder, "Come on, enough of that, I'm gonna show you something really cool." He takes me to see the ever so colorful, so lively piranhas. Not very attractive fish I must say. Actually ugly would be the adjective I'd best use. Yawn....I'm bored. Ugh! No pretty colors on them and they have too many teeth. Wait a minute, they don't swim? They're immobile in the water! Hmm? I wonder why? Will have to google it. I tell hubby I'm not impressed, I think they're ugly and I'm going back to the coral tank. He grabs my hand and takes me over to the...

monkey cage. Three snow monkeys. Two grooming-obsessed monkeys grooming each other and one, lone, uninterested, smart monkey, trying to figure a way out. This monkey was entertaining. Spent all of his energy studying and inspecting the cage to see if there were any tears. He chewed on it to no avail; he moved it violently to no avail. Over and over again. Meanwhile, Ma and Pa Kettle were still grooming themselves oblivious to all of this and talking about their next meal.

And so we spent the day like this in the aquarium going from tank to tank, cage to cage. And what did I learn?

I learned that seals are smarter than us; they get stung by a bee, they leave, we stay.
I learned that we are just a couple of bars away from being fish food; we just need that one shark that's had a really bad day.
I learned to never accept and resign yourself to the cage you have built yourself; and,
I learned that in the midst of darkness and danger, there is still much beauty to be found. Okay, so I had to put that one in.

© 2007 Rebecca Bush