While I won't be taking this suggestion, per se, I'm sure that the cats will reappear in these posts soon enough. However, this suggestion has made me feel encouraged to do something that I had some notional intention of doing when I first started this blog. That is, to temper the posts about scary, mean danger-bugs with posts about happy nice-time-bugs - this includes avoiding consecutive posts about spiders. This is somewhat unfortunate, as I have good pictures of several different spiders, as well as collateral written for these posts. Listen to me - "collateral?" I've been listening to too many of my wife's work stories! Side note: is it inappropriate to refer to a communications professional as a commie? So, as my new spider-posts policy goes into effect, my writhing jar of spiders (with that lid that just won't stay on) will just have to sit teetering over my wife's side of the bed for a little longer.
So this post is about a super-nice bug: the Dobsonfly! Dobsonflies and I are double-best-friends. Many people don't realize that, although modern glitter is synthetic, the glitter and sparkles of yester-year was actually farted out by Dobsonflies. Further, as they fly, the flutter of their wings makes the sound of patriotic songs - reminiscent of a time when everyone in America was super nice to each other and everybody got along really well!
While some entomologists have questioned the super-true facts stated in the previous paragraph, there are aspects of their lives that everyone agrees on. One of them being that they are one of a large number of insects that live most of their lives under water, after which, they have a brief adult-hood (when we typically encounter them) on land - just long enough to show off a little bit and make some descendants.
Allow me to tell the Dobsonfly's story by relating it to another story...The year is 2006 - winter-time. Twitter is still in development and NASA's Mars Reconnaisance Orbiter is braking into the correct orbit. But there's one thing everyone is talking about this winter: Last Holiday, starring Queen Latifah. She plays a spend-thrift with a forgettable existence, and can barely work up the courage to interact with the love of her life, LL Cool J, who plays some sort of a food preparation specialist. Each day of her life is like the one that preceded it until she bumps her head and goes to the doctor. Following a brief checkup, the doctor gives her some troubling news: she has just a couple of weeks to live! Upon receiving this news, she packs her things and takes her dream vacation - apparently, her lifelong dream was to go snowboarding in the Czech Republic (it offends me that the writers went with such a stereotype - not all African Americans are obsessed with Eastern European snow-sports!). While on her last holiday, she spreads her wings, takes risks, and shows the world what she can do!
Although this cinematic masterpiece grossed a whopping 38 mega-dollars (meaning that it only lost, by today's standards, a modest fortune - barely enough for an entire family to live off the interest from, forever), this is, in actuality, several times the median annual earnings of Eastern Dobsonflies in the mid-Atlantic region (dobsonflies are freaking-broke!).
I am a hellgrammite, courtesy of Texas A&M. I actually only have six legs - most of those swimmies are actually gill covers. Also, I got these sweet henna-tattoos in Galveston, during beach week! |
Once a hellgrammite larva is ready to pupate into an adult Dobsonfly, it comes out onto land, spends a few weeks underground, and emerges as an adult to great fanfare (certainly putting my Quinceanera to shame - thanks, Mom...). At this point, the adult Dobsonfly has approximately one week to live (typically a few days more for females, and a few days less for males) before going off to insect heaven (which is better than it sounds). Alternatively, bad Dobsonflies go to...oh, never mind. That one's too easy...
So imagine that you just became an adult and you found out you have one week to live. What would you spend that week doing? Probably you would spend it trying to hook up with someone.
Male Eastern Dobsonfly, courtesy of UFL Entomology dept. |
The lovely female in the picture above (you're gorgeous QL, but I'm talking about the Dobsonfly) will spend her nights seeking out the male with the largest mandibles and her days recuperating from partying and hopefully a one-night-stand with one of these guys on the right...
Despite their intimidating appearance, male Dobsonflies are harmless. Their crazy-long jaws don't get much leverage, and they're not as sharp as they look. From what I've read, it seems like they're only used in mating - presumably to hold on to a wily female (how very 50 Shades), although this has been contested. I only met the female and I haven't come across any pictures of this. But frankly, I'm comfortable with a little bit of mystery here. I have also read that males will use their mandibles to joust with each other. If this is the case, then I hope they have better control of their stupid ostriches than NES gave you, especially around all that lava! (This is a reference to an old and frustrating video game - if you're not familiar with it, it's probably not worth looking up.)
Speaking of when I met this female (still talking about the bug, QL), we actually crossed paths outside of a hospital. It was fairly early in the morning, near the Potomac River, and I assume that she had come the night before because of all of the bright lights (and thumping music - Northern VA's #1 party hospital!). My wife and I were there to get a sonogram of our larva (I do plan on spending the next 18 years trying to turn him into a bug).
My boyfriend may be harmless, but don't mess with me! I can do some damage with these jaws! |
Another interesting thing about the Eastern Dobsonfly is that their hellgrammites all tend to leave the water at about the same time. With such a short life as adults, this is not surprising. One researcher stated that people living along Virginia rivers (whoot! whoot!) report that hellgrammite exoduses (these are also known as "hellgrammite crawling") are triggered by thunderstorms. It was suggested that the vibrations from the thunder spur them out of the water. Personally, I'm pretty dubious about this. Maybe I'll read the whole report one day...
I've seen a few different claims of the exact number of Dobsonfly species - the number tends to be around 30, with a few species as yet unnamed. Most of these are native to South America, though. In the US, there are said to be only four species, with three of those being confined to the west. So, along with this big-fine woman (still about the Dobsonfly) backing it up into a nice resemblance to the Eastern Dobsonfly, it would be pretty unlikely that she was anything else. Therefore, I confidently dub thee: Corydalus cornutus, the Eastern Dobsonfly.
While Dobsonfly adults live ephemeral lives, much like in Last Holiday, their singular focus allows them to get what they came for with fewer conflicts of interest than a celebrity spokesperson for Jenny Craig and Pizza Hut. As someone with their fingers in many sinister soups (what? "easily distracted" would have sufficed), I almost envy the singular purpose of their being. But, contrary to Mama's advice in a famous Lynard Skynard song, simple lives are quickly forgotten.
Peace & bacon grease! Out!
Now I'm standing in the kitchen, carving up the chicken for dinner. And in storms my husband Wilbrin in a jealous rage. "You been screwin' the milkman!" ... Then he ran into my knife. He ran into my knife ten times.
- Dana Elaine Owens