Banana Slug Karma

When I was growing up, every year we would travel up to the top of the state and camp in the Redwoods, not far below Crescent City.  There were a few reasons why we loved these trips.  One was that we would always meet up with my cousins from Oregon, whom we didn't get to see much and who we always had fun with.  Another reason was that we used to tie inter tubes together and spend the days floating down the Jedidiah Smith River(great fun).  Another reason however, was that we loved to torment banana slugs.

It's twisted, but true.  These slimy, speckled, snot colored creatures were abundant in the Redwoods the way that lizards are abundant here in the desert. They were everywhere.  And I suppose that it was because their looks were so offensive to the eye that our torture of these mollusks didn't seem anything other than perfectly justified.

And torture them we did.

I remember venturing on the trails with my cousins, armed with a canister of salt, searching for our victims.  Upon finding one, we'd stand in a group, pour salt on it, and then watch as it bubbled and writhed.  This was fascinating to us- pure entertainment.  (Well, I don't know about "pure".   However, if it ever occurred to anyone that it was a mean or sadistic act, no one said anything out loud.)  In fact, I even bonded with my newly adopted cousin over the salting of a banana slug.  I remember taking him by the hand and leading him over to where I had found a slug on a log.  Wordlessly, because he didn't have much language yet, I held up salt and let him watch as I sprinkled it above the slug.  His eyes widened, the corner of his lips turned up, and I do believe that I had myself a little friend for the rest of that trip.  You may even say that it was a turning point in our relationship: Welcome to America, little man.  Here, we salt slugs. 

We were definitely a destructive force.  If any environmental scientists ever logged the banana slug population during the 1980's, it's possible that they puzzled over a drastic drop every July.  It's safe to say that by the time I reached my teens, I had accumulated a lot of bad juju when it came to banana slugs.

Which brings me to the ironic part of this post.

Do you recognize the shirt that John Travolta is wearing in this still from Pulp Fiction?

It's a University of Santa Cruz T-shirt.  Those ding dongs chose a banana slug as their mascot for some reason.  Do you know why we made Santa Cruz a stop on our vacation? (Well, other than the fact that I wanted to go to the boardwalk?)  Mr. C is a UCSC alumni.  Class of '94, I believe. 

So, that's right.  I married a banana slug. Karma circle complete, and God does have a sense of humor.  

Ba-dum-bum.  

You have a good night! 

Wait- I forgot that I was supposed to tell you about our vacation in Santa Cruz.  I'll tell you fast- it was fun!  One of my favorite sensory experiences ever is to be on a boardwalk, smelling the ocean and hearing the roller coasters above me.  Plus, a friend reminded me that the Santa Cruz Boardwalk was the setting for the movie Lost Boys.  So that pretty much doubles it's cool quotient right there.  

Okay.  Now you can have a good night.