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Cockroaches
9-18-01
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I went to college and did some other things in Madison WI in the mid to
late 80's. I had a few apartments but the one I remember best was my 1
room efficiency - about 25 feet by 25 feet. It was in an efficiency
building called "The Hobbit House" (yes, really) on Hancock street. I
moved in and soon discovered that I had BUGS! |
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Roaches. Mama honkin'
roaches from hell that rode little motorcycles around and kicked sand in
my face. If you have never had roaches then you can just stop reading
right now as you most likely will see my actions as "extreme" and me as
"one of those yucky people who has had roaches". I am "buggy" by nature
and really do dislike all insects and most arthropods and things with
exoskeletons. I have a theory that they are truly not of this world and
that I get that "buggy" feeling because I know this innately from
something deep in my own evolution. Phobia my ass - they're aliens is
what they are. Scientists or astronomers will prove this someday - just
you watch. I remember the first time I saw a roach in that apartment: I
was watching TV and a roach started making its way across the carpet. It
was big, black and had huge gnashing teeth with a little swastika tattoo!
I freaked out and grabbed a can of bug spray (I think the previous tenant
had left it - BIG HINT!). I sprayed my new roommate in vain - he was not
effected at all. Most of you know me and will not be surprised when I say
I sat there and emptied the entire can on him (just to make my point!) -
and he just kept-a-walking, not even phased. I ended up putting on a shoe
and stepping on him as I winced at the crunch (I never did get the "RAID"
stain out of the carpet). This did not make me feel any better as I knew
he was only one of millions that would soon show themselves.
After that first week there it was plain to see that I was at war. I read
everything I could about roaches and how to get rid of them and was
immediately depressed. Everything said that I was in for a long, hard
battle. I bought that RAID foaming stuff that you spray into your
baseboard cracks - and then I wished I hadn't. ALL sizes and colors crept
out! I spent the next month buying all of the products - every can,
spray, and trap. The roaches continued to mock me every chance they got.
The normally peaceful act of pouring cereal into a bowl became an anxiety
filled event. I went to the store again and read the labels on the most
expensive bug bomb foggers - the kind you set off and then leave the house
for a day or two. Fog, yes fog, fog that will seep into their bunkers and
underground hidey holes. Glorious Fog! They had this one huge bug bomb
that said it covered 2000 square feet! Yup, Uh-huh, you all know me: I
bought three of them. Yes, three. 6000 square feet of stinking bug fog
for 625 feet of room! HA! I still giggle when I think about it! I
grabbed my two cats, put them in the car, and set off all three bombs (all
within about 6 feet of each other!) and barely got the hell out in time.
We spent the entire day in the car, my cats and I. Eating lunch, driving
around, solving the worlds problems, having adventures. I think they
liked it because they did not throw up. We went home to a slightly foggy
room 8-10 hours later (the instructions on the can(s) said to stay away
for at least 24 hours - but they must mean that for other people) and I
opened THE window and turned on the bathroom fan and, well, since I now
have three (mostly) normal kids I know I was not made sterile. The fog
seeped into everything. The dead roaches were everywhere and even the
really big ones were forced to show themselves in the last moments of
their lives as they ran out looking for a place to go. I had to clean
them all up and wipe down every surface but it was worth it. I was smart
enough to put a lot of clothes in plastic bags as well as dishes and food
and stuff but the heads on my VCR were ruined - oops. War will have
causalities. As a last step I followed the advice of Cecil Adams The
Straight Dope columnist (www.straightdope.com) and many other books and
took Boric acid powder (roach powder) and made an impenetrable barrier
around the entire room by the baseboards, in the back of cabinets, on top
of cabinets, back of closets. Powder that they would eat and trail back
to their fox holes for others to eat. Tee Hee. It was really not as
messy as I thought it would be.
It took about a week after all that - but it worked. I did not see a
single roach from then on. My neighbors probably did - but I was clean.
My apartment became the Planet Of The Apes "Forbidden Zone" to all
roaches. A place full of myth and legend that all roaches avoided. I
became the roach boogie-man, part of their folklore and the subject of
their campfire ghost stories. The remaining roaches in other parts of the
building still talk about me to this day - my story passed down 1,905,892
x 10 to the 43rd generations. Some have said that there are even roach
religions founded on the lessons taught there that day. Lessons forged in
the crucible of that reckoning - but I am sure those are just slight
exaggerations. Yeah, probably.
Anyway, I learned something through all of that. I learned that at a time
of war, good intentions, targeted strikes, caution, reasoned responses,
negotiation, defiant declarations, - these things are, well, these things
are for pussys. Well, ok, ok - they are the devices and tools of the
uninformed then. They may be good tools to use throughout life generally
speaking - but not against some enemies. Brutal enemies that hide in the
dark, have no sense of honor or responsibility, live off of others,
contribute nothing to the world - and have antennas. Extermination is all
they "understand". Taking out one roach or bringing "exactly those
responsible" to justice did not solve my problem. I had to take them all
out to stop being terrorized. I'm pretty sure that during the
revolutionary war the British thought they knew how to fight: With
honor - on the open battle field, facing the enemy, all in a row, all in
red. But no one fights like that anymore and we all know why. We need to
shed our "red coats" and learn that the aggressor sets the rules and
determines the playing field. We must fight them where they are and in a
way that ensures that they cannot recover and fight back. In the next few
weeks I will be writing about the biggest problem we now face in our fight
with the roaches: The call for inaction, for a "measured response". We
need to be careful of those whose first response was to point out the
ugliness of America and what we have done to deserve this, that two wrongs
don't make a right, that more violence will solve nothing, etc. These
people are doing what they have always done - trying to curb our resolve.
Their "solutions" solve nothing. They must be patted on the head, smiled
at, and completely ignored.
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