I said, NEVER (REDUX)

2.4.2017 (first posted this week 2007)

Sticky, icky, black tar. That's what is commonly thought to be contained in the La Brea tar pits. (Spanish for "tar" happens to be "brea." Sooo ... saying, "the La Brea tar pits" is like saying "the the tar tar pits." YAY!) In fact, the "tar" is actually oil. It's just sticky and icky and black like tar so they called it tar. Whatevs.

My little wife and I went to the museo at the the tar tar pits and it was fascinating. Learned about the saber-toothed cats (NOT TIGERS, yo) and that there were lions once in America. And camels, if you can believe it. American camels. No lie.

These tidbits of info came from the docent tour-guide, a short, stocky, fiftyish man w/ a fu manchu. He was very personable and encouraged the crowd to guess the answers to questions he would pose. e.g., "Only about one species within one million species has left a fossil for us to find. That means millions upon millions of species have disappeared without a trace! What must one DO to become a fossil in the first place?" The people in the smallish crowd looked back blankly. "Die," I said to the crowd, and the guide said, "Exactly!" I'd answered his question while suggesting an activity for the people in the tour. "What else?" asked the guide. Again nothing from the groop. "Remain undisturbed," I suggested. The guide gave me a wink, a wink that meant: You and me, brother, we work together or this will be a long day. I motioned to my little wife. He looked at her and said, wordlessly, "okay, she's in too." I nodded, "Agreed." It went on for a while.
Turns out that he didn't need me the whole time: A couple of little kids that at first appeared cute but rapidly became annoying took the majority of the next questions. I really dig fossils and geology and, well, science, so I asked the guide a few questions of my own. This inspired a few others to ask questions, mostly ones that he'd previously answered, which the might have noticed if they had been paying attention. One man asked a question that I'll never forget.

We had just left the mastodon skeleton and came to the mammoth's. It was easily three times bigger than the mastodon and the guide said it was a JUNIOR mammoth. Holy shit, indeed. Aptly named, this beast.

Closely related as species, it's not only the mammoth's size that differentiates the two: Their tusks serve different purposes. The mastodon's tusks were straight and were likely used to bend back tree limbs, dig into rotten logs and earth to search for grubs, and other such practical uses. The mammoth's, on the other hand were curved in incredible arcs, resembling a pretzel in their curviness. Scholars think that the mammoth's tusks were likely cosmetic and ornamental. A big twisty show to attract a mate. This nugget - a mammoth attracting a mate - inspired the father of one of the little brats to cough up the question that will remain with me forever:
"How did those mammoths make love?"

I swear that I heard a grown man say that. Those exact words. I'm one to anthromorphize everything from a toaster to a vine, but never have I had the illusion that animals "make love." I saw the guide blanch and decided I didn't want to hear his answer or the idiot-man's likely follow-up: Where did they go to the bathroom?

Tonight (a little change from the month-end routine:
Gino and Carlo
Epic North Beach bar.   ** CASH ONLY **


bye-ee!
whrr ... clik!