Coonridge Digest: The plight of the extinct and endangered

Greetin’s from the Ridge.

I must admit that I’ve never developed the proper sympathy for the plight of extinct and endangered animals. I guess I’ve been to too many of Herb’s family reunions, and he’s kin to some of the most fossilized old coots I’ve ever encountered. When I think of fellas like his cousin Marvin who insists on clappin’ everyone so hard on the back that we’ve got to quietly pick the dentures out of the tuna casserole durin’ the blessing….well, I sometimes think that extinction is God’s way of flushin’ the world.

But I’ve been wrong…especially about the flora and fauna that we’ve managed to push to the edge of existence. More than the loss of a snail or buttercup is the fact that it’s nearly always the human animal who’s to blame. Fact is, there’s not another creature that’s caused so many others to go kaput.

Like me, you’ve probably been watchin’ with interest the flight, plight or outright demise of CAMPEPHILUS PRINCIPALIS, the Ivory-Billed Woodpecker. A giant of a bird with a wingspan sometimes reachin’ three foot across, it’s roamed the nation’s southern underbelly for years until mankind has perhaps sealed its beak forever. Our need for trees durin’ World War II seems to have been the most damagin’ culprit and although there’s a regular mini-Mardi Gras of search parties out lookin’ for it, many experts say that we’ve heard the last scream of the Ivory.

Although the giant woodpecker should feel sufficiently sad about its own demise, it might find some consolation in the fact that it has some distinguished company. I’m no bird expert but I‘ve kept a private list of extinctions that I’ve witnessed in my lifetime.

In this primary election season I’ve mused longingly about the plight of the HUMBLUS CANDIDITOUS. The poor Humblus was found in large numbers in all democracies up ‘til this century. This species would be called to public service simply because he felt he might do his fellow critters some good and perhaps had somethin’ important to say. He ran for office with his own money or maybe the contribution of a few friends. His distinction was mainly due to the introduction of a new and more predatory beast, the SPECIAL INTEREST LOBIOSUS who left his droppings all over the floor of the political forest and drove the poor Humblus out of the woods and into the history books.

Another creature that can still be found in small, obscure populations and perhaps in late-night documentaries on The Discovery Channel is the RESPONSIBILUS PARENTIS. Although this creature makes periodic comebacks, its plight is always a battle. The Responsibilus is that increasingly rare creature who has the audacity to think that it is actually responsible for the care, feeding, nurture and morality of its offspring. This bird…often found in pairs and prone to monogamy…has the unconventional notion that no school or government is responsible for raisin’ its young. It sets the schedules and priorities for its own little nest and will not allow other intruders to interfere. The Responsibilus makes no excuses for its chicks, and isn’t afraid to straighten out an offending beak if it goes peckin’ at the wrong worm.

Like the poor Humblus, predators have besieged the Responsibilus and it’s been an agonizin’ battle for existence. The EXTRA-CURRICULUS has laid siege to the nest in an effort to not only rearrange the twigs but actually capture the young. The GOVERNMENTUS BUFFOONUS has attempted to lay claim to the offspring claimin’ it knows a better way to teach the chicks to fly.

Then of course the poor Responsibilus Parentis has its internal troubles as its own youngsters look at the nests of the surroundin’ flocks and think that since the other birds have abdicated their responsibility of raisin’ offspring that maybe Mom and Pop should too. I pity the poor R.P…and I applaud the bird.

And finally, as a final way of payin’ homage to the home front, I’ve gotta include the SPOUSAL NINCOMPOOPUS. We stopped at a Hardees yesterday and Herb went to the john. He’d no sooner hit the door than he came stormin’ back out again.

"Whatsamatter, Herb? Lose the urge?" "They got one of them…things in there!" I couldn’t for the life of me imagine what sort of thing might be in a men’s restroom that Herb hadn’t noticed before unless it was the handtowels. The man still uses his shirtfront.

"What thing, Herb?"

"One of them drop down tables to change a baby’s diaper! Right there in the men’s restroom! Imagine, have a personal woman’s item like that right there in front of me!"

At least the Ivory Bill was beautiful and had a purpose.

You ever in Coonridge, stop by. We may not answer the door but you’ll enjoy the trip.