It Seemed Like A Good Idea At The Time

Sandy wasn’t keen on the idea at first.  I told her about the abundance of potassium contained in bananas. I admit it… I was trying to wean her off those expensive potassium pills she buys on aisle #1 in Stop & Shop.

Yes, she is concerned with health and nutrition.  OK, she agreed that bananas are good for us, even if they were not her thing… but, after all, there would be a clear benefit, at least to me.  And yes, maybe she would try one or two; but only with cornflakes and milk.

An unforeseen problem ensued.  You have to understand this about Sandy: she hates fruit flies.  Last year we were “invaded” (her word) by the pests, and it was determined that my bananas (ripening to perfection on the kitchen counter) were the cause.  Alright, we got one of those dumb wooden banana holders, and the bananas and their holder were exiled to a shelf in the garage. 

Sorry, I thought this was inappropriate.  Bananas need good air.  And besides that wooden thing looked like a gibbet.  It didn’t look like we were ripening bananas… it looked like we had executed them.

But, like Pharaoh, her heart was hardened.  My complaints fell on deaf ears.  

Then she just put on this surprised expression when I had nine fake banana trees installed in our backyard.  I picked them up second hand from a set design company (it’s amazing what you can find on the internet). I explained to her that the space between our deck and the stone wall was a perfect location for a banana grove.  Where else would we put it?  In the bathroom?  She conceded that if we had to have a banana grove, it was the best place for it.

I felt better… now when we return from our Sunday grocery shopping, I climb a ladder and fix a bunch to one of our trees!  Perfect.  Anytime I want a banana, I simply go out to the yard and pluck one from a tree!

Beautiful bunch of ripe banana

Daylight come an’ me wan’ go home

Hide the deadly black tarantula

Daylight come an’ me wan’ go home

Fake banana trees?  And look at this… fake tarantulas!  What’s a banana tree without a lurking tarantula? I love it! You can find anything on the internet!  

But it took considerable persuasion on my part to convince her to take the next logical step and extend our hospitality to a Silverback Lowland Gorilla.  And not some stuffed Steiff toy either.

It happened this way. 

Bridgeport’s Beardsley Zoo has been experiencing some financial difficulty. A combination of the economic downturn and steep budget cuts imposed by Bridgeport Mayor, Bill Finch, have had a serious impact on Zoo operations.  This year the Zoo’s Foundation launched Project Outreach.  One of the programs developed within Project Outreach was to allow for certain animals to be placed in private homes for an over night or weekend stay. For a set fee private citizens could enroll in “Take A Friend Home”.  And then, there would be an additional fee depending on the size and type of animal, for a night or weekend stay.

For the Zoo it was a “win-win”… decrease the overhead in caring for animals, and increase revenue from the fees generated in the “Take A Friend Home” program.  I checked out the Beardsley web site… checked out the Take A Friend Home program… checked out the list of available animals and their costs.

$125 one time registration fee. $500 for a weekend with a Silverback Lowland Gorilla. Done!!

*********

“This is Moses.”

“Why is he wearing an Eisenhower jacket?”

“I picked it up at the Newtown Consignment Shop on Route 25.  I judge it to be circa Korean War.  I had the sleeves lengthened.  Looks good, no?  I didn’t want the neighbors to complain that we had a naked gorilla in our yard.”

I know what you are thinking… this was not a very good idea.  To me this was no big deal.  First, Sandy has gone on record as saying “no” to cats (I was fine with that), and “no” to dogs (that pinched; but I understood why, and agreed)… but she had never said “no” to gorillas.

Next, I felt that we would be doing something good for Bridgeport.  It is the City where Sandy has worked for twenty plus years.  And Lord knows that Bridgeport needs help!

Finally, I knew that a Lowland Gorilla would give authenticity to our banana grove. At least for a weekend.

“I find his name offensive.”

“Well”, I pointed out, “we didn’t name him. They did.”

“I don’t care.  It’s a sacrilege to name a gorilla after our greatest Prophet of all time!  I am not going to call him ‘Moses’.  I’m going to call him Maishe!”

“OK.  Maishe works for me.” It may sound “ghetto”.  Well it is!  Jewish Ghetto! Maishe is simply the Yiddish diminutive for Moses.  But I got to wondering if Sandy was named after our greatest left hander of all time.  That thought could hold for another day.

“And what’s all that stuff in the back of your car?”

“I stopped off at the market and bought 10 bunches of bananas, 4 bunches of broccoli rabe, 2 bunches of fennel, oh… and a pound of cherries for you, they were on special.  Then I stopped off at the garden place next to San Remos and laid in a supply of broad leaf ferns and pachysandra.”

“Will Maishe eat ferns and pachysandra?”

“No, the ferns and the pachysandra are for his bedding.  Gorillas make nests in the ground from leaves and branches every night.  The pachysandra probably won’t be of much use on this visit…” I let this thought linger for a fraction of a second, “… But the ferns and available small shrubs should be adequate for now.”  And then I put in, “I just don’t want him getting into my mint.”

“And just where is our guest going to go potty?”

“In the yard next door.  The Henderson’s have gone to Nantucket for the summer.  Besides, gorillas are very clean animals.  They don’t shit where they eat or sleep.  After Maishe and I knock off a few bananas, I’ll go next door and take a dump behind the Henderson’s maxi rhododendron.  Maishe will get the idea.  If you want… you can take a dump there, too.  Think of it as primate bonding.”

After our Saturday breakfast of bananas and more bananas, Sandy asked what I intended to do with Maishe for the day.  “I thought it might be fun to expose Maishe to a little taste of Woodbury charm.  Take in a few tag sales, the local framer’s market {all organic}, perhaps a bit of antiquing.  That sort of thing.”

No, I came up with an even better idea… why not introduce him to some of our constabulary?  That’s the ticket!  Maishe and I hopped in the Hummer and I drove around town at a menacingly 7 mph above the posted speed limit.  I drove by every known ambush position that the Woodbury fuzz share with the State gendarmes.  What would they think about a 428 pound gorilla in an Eisenhower jacket?  Go ahead, stop me!  I dare you!

“Come ‘n get me copper!  My man Maishe is going to fuck you up!”

In the afternoon we pulled into the Dairy Delite for a small vanilla custard in a waffle cone. We were sitting on the outside benches, taking in the view, minding our own business, enjoying our ice creams, bothering no one and hoping that a cop would see us, when I noticed these teenaged toughs glaring at us.

I glared back, “What d’ya lookin’ at sucka?”

Then I whispered into Maishe’s ear, now it’s time to do your beat the chest thing and show your impressive canine teeth… but Maishe was too caught up in his cone.  So I beat my chest and showed my canine teeth and the kids scattered like terrified rabbits.  Maybe they weren’t teenagers… but they had to be close to ten.

We got back in the Hummer and continued our patrol.  To no avail.  Where’s the police when you really need them?

*************

As the weekend came to a close Sandy, Maishe and I shared a view of the setting sun from our deck.  Sandy, a glass of chilled Chardonnay, me, my customary extra-dry martini and Maishe, a virgin banana daiquiri.  I considered the weekend a huge success.  Granted… it would have been better if the police had tried to stop us.

Sandy simply stared at me above the rim of her Grgich-Hills.

When I returned to Bridgeport the Beardsley people were wonderful, greeting Maishe like a long lost relative.  I thanked them.

“Moses was an exceptional guest.  FYI, he prefers broccoli rabe cooked to raw.  I sautéed them in garlic & oil with white beans and pancetta.  He loved it!  Oh… and you can keep the Eisenhower jacket… he wouldn’t take it off all weekend.”

As for Sandy… there are new prohibitions that have been imposed.  Gorillas have been added to the “no” list.  Pachyderms, reptiles and rodents, too.  The latter is disappointing… I had my eye on a hefty capybara. I returned the fake banana trees and tarantulas (well I kept one of the tarantulas… I thought it would be fun to place it in the guest bathroom).

But all is not lost.  An Emu is just $65 for an over night, and it does not appear on the “no” list.  Ha hoo!  And even more important… bananas are now permitted back in the kitchen.

Work all night an’ drink rum

Stack banana ’til de morning come…

This entry was posted in Stories & Brief Tales. Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *