Friday, August 13, 2004
The silence of the frogs
I guess God™ didn't like my humiliation of his first meager attempt and decided to have another go. Currently we're being drowned by leftover rain from Tropical storm Bonnie, and on Saturday I will attempt to drive to Clemson without being totally consumed by hurricane Charlie. The hurricane looks like it'll be a doozy, but hopefully it'll get too full on dead Floridians to bother us too much. Maybe we'll get lucky, and it'll sever the peninsula at the base!
While the weather channel is again screaming their heads off, the daily reports that come on every 10 minutes don't seem to indicate our impending doom. The robotic voice just drones, "Slight chance of rain. Slight chance of rain." You'd think they'd have programmed it by now to say, "The end is nigh! Fucking hurricane people! HURR-I-CANE!"
Because of all the rain, there's been a lot of minor flooding here, and tonight, the frogs are loving it. They are making those loud chirpy/ribbity noises they love to make, which wouldn't normally be annoying if there weren't a millions of them.
During a break in the rain, I went for a run, down the road, into the Coastal Carolina University campus, and onto the track they have nearby. Just off the track, on one end, they have tiny ramp leading down into the ground, which ends with a small storage shed. In the dark, you can't see the very bottom because of a long deep shadow, but I could tell that it was full of water. It was also full of at least a dozen frogs, who were making enough of a racket for me to hear through my headphones. So I decided to see what would shut them up.
I tried spitting into the hole first. I'm not much of a spitter, and generally find it distasteful when people just spit in public for no good reason, but runners need to spit more than normal, so I took the opportunity. A second after I did it
the ribbiting ceased one by one, sort of the way talking dies down when a performance begins. I could sense their little froggy ears were very alert. I decided to do another lap (1/4 mile) and see what happened next. When I came back, they were at it again, like a bunch of loud schoolchildren in a cafeteria. This time I just spoke.
"Hey! Shut up you guys!" Half of the ribbits paused, while the others continued. "Hey! I said shut up!" I said, this time pointing into the darkness of the hole. All the ribbiting ceased. I strained to see anything in the darkness, but failed to see if their little froggy eyes were wide with fear.
I began to walk away, and 10 seconds later, one single ribbit emitted from the hole. I smiled. It must have been the froggy equivalent of, "What an asshole!"
While the weather channel is again screaming their heads off, the daily reports that come on every 10 minutes don't seem to indicate our impending doom. The robotic voice just drones, "Slight chance of rain. Slight chance of rain." You'd think they'd have programmed it by now to say, "The end is nigh! Fucking hurricane people! HURR-I-CANE!"
Because of all the rain, there's been a lot of minor flooding here, and tonight, the frogs are loving it. They are making those loud chirpy/ribbity noises they love to make, which wouldn't normally be annoying if there weren't a millions of them.
During a break in the rain, I went for a run, down the road, into the Coastal Carolina University campus, and onto the track they have nearby. Just off the track, on one end, they have tiny ramp leading down into the ground, which ends with a small storage shed. In the dark, you can't see the very bottom because of a long deep shadow, but I could tell that it was full of water. It was also full of at least a dozen frogs, who were making enough of a racket for me to hear through my headphones. So I decided to see what would shut them up.
I tried spitting into the hole first. I'm not much of a spitter, and generally find it distasteful when people just spit in public for no good reason, but runners need to spit more than normal, so I took the opportunity. A second after I did it
the ribbiting ceased one by one, sort of the way talking dies down when a performance begins. I could sense their little froggy ears were very alert. I decided to do another lap (1/4 mile) and see what happened next. When I came back, they were at it again, like a bunch of loud schoolchildren in a cafeteria. This time I just spoke.
"Hey! Shut up you guys!" Half of the ribbits paused, while the others continued. "Hey! I said shut up!" I said, this time pointing into the darkness of the hole. All the ribbiting ceased. I strained to see anything in the darkness, but failed to see if their little froggy eyes were wide with fear.
I began to walk away, and 10 seconds later, one single ribbit emitted from the hole. I smiled. It must have been the froggy equivalent of, "What an asshole!"
