How I spent the afternoon of April 9th

Around 2 o’clock I went for a hike in a nearby state park (Eno River, http://www.enoriver.org/) where I saw possibly the tiniest lizard ever. For those questioning my ability to make such a claim, be it known that I subscribe to the bi-monthly publication, “Lizard Aficionado”, so I know a small lizard when I see one. This diminutive fellow was about an inch long and clearly an accomplished scamperer. My first feeling was one accurately described by a high school classmate’s* equation:

[(smaller than normal) implies cute]

Just as I was about to fawn over my new, scaly friend, a memory millions of years old came to the fore. I was a furry rodent, cowering under the shadow of a hungry dinosaur, hoping in vain that my furry underbelly and sand-paper tongue would somehow provide me some security. The last things I remember were pointy teeth and a bouncy ride back to a nest of screaming reptilian brats. I realized that far from being a friend, this little villain was the direct descendent of the slayer of my great*(10^6) grandfather.
“The tables have turned, haven’t they my unfortunate friend,” I said, as the tiny creature shivered under a fallen oak leaf. It was chewier than I thought.
This got me thinking about what might happen far in the future. Assuming the unlikely case where humans don’t develop bio-technology capable of radically altering our physical make-up, what might be the next dominant order to prey upon our hapless, squishy species? I’m guessing cephalopods since they have lots of arms for hugging really tightly, even when you don’t want hugs.

Back in reality, I soon came to the end-point of my search, a large abandoned rock quarry filled with Eno run-off, now a secluded lake. About a quarter-mile across and forested to the very edge, there wasn’t much shore to speak of, just a 10 ft vertical granite wall that went as far down as I could see. I stopped to gaze for a few minutes, watching two fish, clearly friends, survey their feeding options around the rim. Here is how I imagined their conversation:

Fish 1: Water’s sure nice today.
Fish 2: Yep
F1: Your tail looks nipped, how’d that happen?
F2: Crab caught me eating its eggs. How do you like the new Shakira single?
F1: Blub blub
F2. Blub-dala-blub

Walking back, I passed two adults and two New People, one of whom was brand new and had to be carried around in a special backpack reminiscent of a misplaced kangaroo pouch. It was looking all around with wide eyes, and I was pretty sure I could hear Its tiny brain growing. I soon became aware that I wasn’t listening to neuronal development, but actually a bowel movement. That was gross at first, but New Person appeared to be pretty happy about Its bowel movement, so I was too.
Driving off, Whole Lotta Love was on the radio, so I put the ZX2 on cruise control, drove with my thighs, and air-drummed for a while. Hands back on the wheel, I headed over to a coffee shop on 54, where my Friend likes to study extraordinarily complicated rules of societal conduct and how those rules are applied in various circumstances. To my disappointment, she wasn’t there, so I comforted and cooled myself with an ice-mocha, which costs $3.21.
Next, I cruised over to a little restaurant where a friend of mine was throwing a birthday party. There was an ice-filled steel-drum with PBR on one half and fancy beer on the other. I noticed that they were eying each other suspiciously, so I finished off the PBR to help avoid a dangerous fight. Predictably, the Blue Ribbon Beer had its revenge two hours later when I uttered an unwitting but offensive gaffe to the manager of the establishment. Even more to my dismay, I later found out that the object of my comment was the manager's significant other. These things happen.
After batting practice for my lab’s softball team, the only team-associated event I’ve managed to attend, I decided to spend a quick few minutes at work to make sure nothing untoward was going on. As I expected for a Sunday night, things were pretty quiet, except for code-name T-Rex, who was just getting started on his day at about 8PM. Recently, he had told me in English:
“I figured out the reason why our experiment hasn’t been working; you made a minor mistake on the first step.”
T-Rex is always amiable and tried not to be sore about this, but I sensed that he really wanted to spray me in the face with a water bottle. I approached his bench cautiously:
Me: O genki des ka, T-Rex san? (How’s it going, Mr. T-Rex)
T-Rex: Ahhh, genki des. (Ahhh, it’s going alright. It would be going better if you’d have paid more attention to detail three weeks ago. Now get me the water bottle and stand still).
After accepting my punishment (T-Rex is just and wise) I went home, caught the newest episode of Family Guy off the DVR, and hit the hay.


*Matthew Vincent Powell: Physics grad student, Irvine, CA