My fascination with unicorns has lasted quite some time, beginning as a child and continuing—but declining in intensity—into adulthood. I do not know whether the whimsical fantasy surrounding unicorns triggered my curiosity about norwhals or my interest in norwhals sparked the appeal of unicorns. Regardless of which one ignited the other, there’s no question in my mind that there was, and remains, a connection between them. Their curiously spiraled physical appendages (the unicorn’s horn and the norwhal’s tusk) no doubt account for much of their respective appeal. More importantly, though, may be the mystique those protuberances represent; the confluence of fantasy and reality. But no such intersection between illusion and fact exists to explain my enchantment with squids and octopuses, my attachment to which evolved in more recent years—except, of course, the almost magical appearance of their respective arms/tentacles. Octopuses, especially, captivate me with the incredible precision with which they control their eight strong arms. Squids have ten limbs: eight arms and two tentacles. There was a time when I enjoyed the flavor and texture of the “meat” of both creatures; I still enjoy calamari, but because I now classify octopuses as intelligent, sentient beings, I can no longer bring myself to eat octopus. I have never eaten unicorn, of course, and do not plan to taste norwhal meat. More than a decade ago, I wrote the following poem about mythic meals:
Mythic Meals
I don’t believe in Unicorns
but I like the way they taste.
The flesh is rainbow flavored,
with proper salt and baste.
Now Centaur is my favorite food,
much muscle in their middles,
more flavor than the Cheshire cat,
who only tastes in riddles.
But have you eaten Hydra,
with her spicy after-bite?
It’s similar to Minotaur,
when the latter’s cooked just right.
And I like a bit of Griffin,
if it’s rare and undercooked,
Oh, Satyr can be delicious!
What have I overlooked?
Humans can carry parasites,
or is it the other way around?
Be careful when mixing meatafors
Oh, how awful this must sound!
I’m really not a cannibal
nor do I chew on a mythic beast
except when it’s in season,
then it’s nice to have a feast.
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My calendar reminds me I must pay estimated taxes to the IRS within the next several days. And I have to decide, this week, what to do with the proceeds of a maturing certificate of deposit (CD), the rate of return for which would be much lower than it has been heretofore if I were to renew it. Financial management is among my least favorite aspects of adulthood; but the discomfort associated with money matters is not quite as distasteful as the sound of footsteps along the inevitable march toward death, which grow louder with each passing day. More gallows humor, interwoven with a bone-dry discussion of matters that should be of concern only to practicing accountants.
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Once again today, I may try to force myself to arrange for my car’s dead battery to be jumped, so I can drive the car to a shop where the three-plus-year-old battery can be replaced. I am beyond simply lazy; my condition is extreme lethargy, amplified by slothful indolence. My apathy refuses to give me access to a recent edition of a thesaurus so I can explore additional synonyms. Instead, I am forced to try to think for myself, without the aid of thought-enhancing reference materials. The brutality of such an indignity is the embodiment of cruelty. Reporting this mistreatment to the thought police is not outside the realm of possibility. The penalties for such criminal behavior start with digital amputation, followed by public stoning and growing progressively worse, culminating in slow-motion beheading with a dull and rusty guillotine. In the absence of compassion, the punishment could be even worse.
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If I could eliminate the discomfort in my chest, I might be able to sleep for a while. It’s not sufficiently intense to call it pain, but it is well past the stage of being classified as a simple ache. Doctors should prescribe “discomfort pills” that serve as obstacles to the progression to more unpleasant developments. Gummies or alcohol might do the trick, but neither are advisable as one prepares to be a road-warrior.
