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Chapter
Three
Ants - 1961
The Peace Corps is created by President
Kennedy to meet, "The urgent needs for skilled manpower," in
third world countries: March 1.
The first person to ever orbit the earth is
Yuri Gararin. He does one revolution in 108 minutes and returns to earth:
April 12.
FCC chairman, Newton Minow, calls
television, "a vast wasteland," during a speech given to the
National Association of Broadcasters: May 1.
Leaving Washington DC for New Orleans by
bus, thirteen "Freedom Riders" test desegregation of public
facilities along the way. The movement grows to include trains and planes:
May 4.
Freedom Fighter buses are firebombed,
passengers are attacked and beaten, and local police respond with the
comment, "We have not intention of standing guard for a bunch of
troublemakers." President Kennedy dispatches federal marshals and the
National Guard to protect the riders: May 15 to May 20.
Construction begins on the Berlin Wall
because western governments would not sign a Soviet-brokered peace treaty
with Germany: August 13.
Cellist Pablo Casals performs at the White
House. Caryl Chessman is not mentioned: November 13.
South Vietnam receives 4000 US troops and
32 helicopters. The troops are instructed not to fire unless fired upon
first. December 11.
There are 737 people arrested in
Montgomery, Alabama, when they march on city hall, protesting the trials
of eleven Freedom Riders. Protests lead to a black boycott of white
merchants: December 12-16.
The boycott in Montgomery, Alabama, ends
with the desegregation of public facilities, reduced sentences for the
Freedom Riders, and an end to the protests and boycott. It is a good
Christmas, after all, for local merchants: December 18.
* * *
My grandmother would always shout at me,
"Don't leave that there; it'll bring ants."
"That" could have been anything
from a lollipop, to cake, a sandwich, or crumbs on a plate.
I grew up in mortal fear that ants would
infest any room where food was left. Somewhere around my ninth year I had
a dream where I was Gulliver and ants were Lilliputians. They had me tied
down in the schoolyard while they feasted on all the delicacies of my
lunch box.
I should stop to explain how my young mind
envisioned ants. They were two legged, not six, and didn't have anything
else approaching insect-like characteristics. They gave you slobbery
kisses on the cheek when they saw you and had big bosoms that were soft
and squishy like feather pillows.
Can you imagine my little boy fright of
being tied down by thousands of aunts? Considering the amount of kisses I
stood in for, between their raids on my lunch, the "Yeech
Factor" could be exponentially expressed. I probably woke up in a
cold sweat though I don't remember that part of the dream.
Looking back on it, I don't see why my
grandmother was so worried about ants. Or Aunts. Her house was immaculate
and no self-respecting crawling insect would have been seen in it. They
would have needed their own supply of food because they wouldn't have
found anything in the house. Today, I can picture long lines of ants
walking through the kitchen, carrying their little carpetbags full of
crumbs.
Since my mother's sister lived there too, I
suppose I can understand Grandma's reticence to acquire another Aunt in
the house. Of course, this is with adult hindsight and I realize that my
Aunt was my grandmother's daughter and not her aunt, but you get the
picture.
The most fun I ever had with ants was in
the backyard by the garbage cans. There must have been some wonderful food
treasures back there because, like Roman highways, all ant roads led to
our trash. My two favorite games were playing "God" and
"Engineer."
Playing God was the easiest. It involved
two parts. Like a fighter pilot from the war movies I would swoop down
with a spray bottle of Raid and envelope the ant infantry columns with a
toxic cloud of pyrethrin. The poor, wretched, survivors, struggling to
escape the haze were bombed with dirt clods or the bottom of my shoe.
War is hell. And is God.
The second game was the most creative. It
involved engineering skills, experimentation with behavior, and
psychology.
Nothing beats toying with the minds of
lowly invertebrates when you're a child.
If I had recently played a round of God, it
was necessary to wait for the ant army to reestablish their lines of
communication before attempting this new game. Once there was a
particularly long, thick line of ants the stage was set for Engineer.
The first step was to construct some
outlandish course of obstacles: water and sand hazards, mountain peaks,
and bridges.
Next, I needed to be like a railroad
switchman and offer some inducement for the army to change its route.
Finally, after the ants were walking the
path I set for them, the real fun could begin.
I would remove essential elements of the
course, interrupting the flow of ants, and see what they did or how long
it took to reestablish the column. I would take pieces of stick or leaf,
with many soldiers, and turn it around 180 degrees.
Oh! how confusion reigned!
Around 4th of July there were even
firecrackers to add to the equation. After much experimenting on my part,
I was able to hypothesize what my little changes in the ant's environment
would produce.
With this sort of background I should have
graduated to working for the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers. Then, I could
have learned how to build bridges one day and blow them up the next. Think
of the fun in destroying your proudest creations.
But I didn't become an engineer because of
something I saw the ants doing.
I'll always remember when I learned why
ants touch antenna. They're communicating.
After that realization I had momentary
pangs of guilt for having played with their minds. What sort of garbled
message was being passed up the line? Did the ants at one end get angry
with their friends for doling out false information? Did they know? Did
they care?
As enjoyable as it was, building new
highways for the ants to traverse, it wasn't as much fun as watching them
or trying to understand why they did what they did.
I think my mother used to feel that way
about me.
Who wants to be an engineer anyway?
Engineers lack the excitement of working with systems interconnecting with
other, interconnected, systems.
Engineers work with numbers. There isn't
any of the mystery you find in studying life. Numbers, by virtue of what
they are, are predictable. Plug them into one end of the formula and spit
them out the other end. Once the bridge, or dam, or skyscraper, or road,
or dingus is made, what is there left to wonder about?
To maintain the world of the built
environment, it is necessary to plunder and destroy the depths of the
natural world.
It's as if trees, rivers, rocks and
minerals, animals; the earth itself, is a platter of food left lying
around after some massive picnic and we humans have come to feast.
One day, someone else playing God will
reach a hand down and move us around like I did the ants. We'll run about
in confusion, garbling messages, and eventually settle down to another
equilibrium.
I wish my grandmother was still alive so I
could tell her that leaving food around the house doesn't bring ants. All
it does is concentrate them.
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