Things That Go Squish

When people ask (in a nice way) why I don't move back to Hawaii, I cite familiar reasons: Honolulu's traffic, the sometimes oppressive humidity, and the lack of job opportunities. But that's the left brain talking.What I don't miss at all are the things that go squish.

As a child I was very careful to watch where I was stepping, especially at night. African snails made a distinctive wet crunch,and their dark slime was hard to clean from the ridges of one's slippers. The milky fluid from the warts of a giant toad was rumored to be poisonous, so I gave them a wide berth. Flattened toads could be found on almost every street, and in the Hawaiian heat it only took a couple of days for the carcass to dry to a leathery texture.

I hold a special place in my heart for the giant cockroach. On a breezeless night these flying sacks of bacteria would swarm near the palm fronds, and you would be well advised to keep your mouth closed when venturing outside. Even in the cleanest of houses they could be found scurrying around the kitchen at night, and I had an unpleasant experience in a sleeping bag when I slept over at a friend's.

On the bright side, I have no aversion to and even like snakes, probably because there were no experiences of snakes during my youth to trigger long-lasting phobias.

Biking home on Memorial Day, I paused to let him pass.