Tag Archives: lizards

Not Everyone is Worthy of a Purple Velvet Couch …

6 Jul

I stopped to appreciate the coolness of it all. I’d never seen someone so out of their element look like they were in charge. Confident. They had that Fonzie swagger.

At first I thought they were plastic, decorative statues to bring more funk to this older gentleman’s car, but no … there they were hanging out on the back of a classic Dodge during an American Graffiti Friday Night vibe at the local burger joint. All the classic cars were on full display, but these iguanas were cooler than any 67 ride parked out front.

And the thing is I think they knew they were the new kids on this block, but they were being themselves … relaxing and observing every passerby. These iguanas didn’t need anyone’s approval or love, but they got it. They sat there checking out the seen and keeping their fixed stare on anybody who chose to stare at them back.

I don’t know if their home houses those sweet purple velvet couches or logs with leaves, but I’m sure they lounge on those chairs on a daily basis, chit-chatting about when the Geico lizard will come over go a visit.

The awesomeness these iguanas exuded in an environment that wasn’t their own made me think about my son. You see, he was having a hard time with a friend that wasn’t being very friendly, but my son continued to try to include himself in this boy’s life, assuring me that there was no reason why this kid wouldn’t like him. Maybe I was mistaken, he suggested.

But as group hangouts and play dates increased I felt my son was off the mark. So I had a little chat with him … I explained to him that not everyone was going to be smart enough to know what an amazing, and cool friend he was, but that didn’t mean he had to let himself believe what they believed about him.

“You be yourself,” I said. “People will like you for you, I know you want to hang out with certain kids but sometimes it’s best to take your friendship and walk away. The fact that they don’t want to get hang out with you is their loss. You know you’re an awesome dude. You’re like an iguana.”

That seemed to confuse him. He didn’t know what I was talking about. So I showed him the picture. I explained that they might not have been in their own environment, and were surrounded by people they didn’t know, but they didn’t care. They were themselves, hanging out with their real buddies, they didn’t care that people were watching, to which he answered if they were themselves they’d be in the rainforest. And I don’t think these are iguanas, they’re lizards.

And I laughed.

Maybe they were hanging out this way in the rainforest or desert or wherever. Nobody can make them stay posed that way this long. Maybe they were purple velvet couch lizards and didn’t know it yet.  Maybe this is more comfortable than the branch or cactus that sticks in them in the back. Maybe purple velvet is their jam. They sit there and they don’t care, they know they’re awesome in every way and if you want to hang out with them, take pictures with them, find out more about them then cool, if not then it’s your loss. The lizards don’t care. They hang out regardless.

“Not everyone is worthy of a purple velvet couch. But I think you can definitely own one.”

“I like green.”

“I know. You would rock any color.”

 

Buen Camino, my friends …

 

The Standoff

15 Nov

Standing on a chair. There I was standing on a chair freaked out of my mind. I guess it’s not a normal response for most people, but it was for me. Most people wouldn’t have paid attention to it. Just another resident of their neighborhood.

Me?

Yeah I’d seen them before, plenty of times when I went to go visit my sister in Florida. Plenty of them hanging out by the pool, just getting a tan I guess and, I’d seen plenty of them at the zoo. I’d even seen them in Rango … that Johnny Depp … very awesome. But all of this took place outdoors. The Great Outdoors. They were hanging out in their natural habitat — a place with sunlight, plants, palm trees, cactus, and dirt.

Today they were not hanging out in their neighborhood. Today they were indoors. Today they were hanging out in the kitchen.

Let me tell you something, a kitchen is no place for a lizard. It’s just not.

Image via Steve Creek Wildlife Photography.

It’s really not. I know it’s only about five inches long, and I know it’s practically harmless. Practically being the key word here. You never know. There could be that one bionic lizard that decides to be a nonconformist and attack me or something. I don’t know, it could happen. So this small chance really freaked me out. And I guess it’s strange to hear considering that I think of myself as a strong woman. But I have my moments … most of these freak-me-out-jump-on-a-chair moments revolve around insects, roaches, rats, or small creatures with tails that scamper.

This was no different except my kids were with me this time, distracted by the Sprout Channel, so they had no idea that I was standing on the chair with the heebie-jeebies. I called my dude to inform him of my little standoff, but he was of no help of course. He told me not to freak out, that they were harmless.

Yeah I know they were harmless. I got that part. However I was way beyond rational thinking. I was in freak-me-out mode. When I’m on that chair, the only thing helping me is if that wiggly tail finds itself outdoors, where it belongs. However, my dude didn’t seem to quite get that part of the puzzle. He just kept telling me not to freak out. Yeah … that didn’t help me. The more he repeated it, the more I felt like telling him to jump off a cliff.  He said he’d eventually take care of it when he came home in about two hours.

Dude.

So I looked over to my fourteen-year old dalmatian, Pinta, to investigate. I thought she might catch it. Back in the day she was the master squirrel chaser and bee catcher, like Grease Lightning. Yeah … that didn’t happen today. I think she has osteoporosis. She took one look at me, slowly walked around the kitchen, sniffed the refrigerator, and then licked a Cheerio that had rolled under the cabinets. She could care less that I was standing on a chair. She could care less that I was freaked out of my mind. She probably looked at me thinking ‘what the hell’s a matter with you?’

Dogs. They fear no lizard, they just fear a shortage of Cheerios. So I stood there, on the chair, by the stove stirring the albondiga soup and waiting for the lizard to make his move.

It was a long evening.