Or: Trying to Live With Nature
I would like to take you down a thought train. We all have them. One minute you’re thinking about Motley Crue and what a pretentious ass you’ve become. The next minute you’re wondering whether you’ll ever have figs again if you kill the wasps in your shed.
Let’s start with “Shout at the Devil.” What follows is everything thing I thought:
I wish Motley Crue had written more songs like, “Shout at the Devil.”
God! I know all the words to “Shout at the Devil!”
(All the words to “Shout…” run through my head.
I wish I listened to more Motley Crue. I really liked them when I was a kid.
Now a lot of their songs feel a little dopey, I don’t know.
This all happened after the Judas Priest thing.
For context: My favorite heavy metal bands are Judas Priest and Iron Maiden with Black Sabbath not far behind.
Once when I was exercising (back when I exercised) it occurred to me that none of their songs were grossly sexist. I got a dopamine superiority bump and lost the ability to enjoy most hair metal.
I dwell in this a lot.
Back to the thought train.
You should listen to Motley Crue more; not every band is going to turn the “Rime of the Ancient Mariner” into a heavy metal song.
Wait.
If I kill those wasps in the shed, will they, like, be my albatross? We harvested together all fall.
For context: I have eight or so fig trees. Wasps are drawn to them. Some are pollinators, some are just hungry. My policy is that if the wasps get them first, they’re theirs.
I saw dozens of wasps this fall. We were fine together. They didn’t bother me when I picked the figs and I left them alone.
I had a banner harvest.
Back to the thought train.
If I kill those wasps and don’t get figs next year, I’ll regret it.
That isn’t the lesson of “The Time if the Ancient Mariner.”
According to Iron Maiden (and Samuel Coleridge) we must love all things that God made.
Or, put more reasonably, they’re just creatures doing their thing.
So, in a way, Vince Neil saved those wasps.
Good for him.