The Salt-Marsh Caterpillar

Turning away for a picture is so hipster-emo. The only
way you could have squeezed more emo juice out of that
hipster rutabaga (a very indie & authentic root vegetable,
indeed) is if you had taken the pic yourself!

Despite the title, this week's post is not about a caterpillar - it's about a moth...a moth with a sort of Failure To Launch dilemma. If you didn't see Failure To Launch (and I'm sure many of you didn't), the gist is this. An aging Matthew McConaughey (still riding high from his critically acclaimed success, Tiptoes) is a 35 year old who lives in his parents' basement. Greatly chagrined, his parents (how long did it take them to notice that their son was 35?) hire a sort-of life-lessons educator/con-woman to give him some confidence and get him out of their house. This strategy gets Matt's dad (played by Terry Bradshaw, who is theatrically out of his element when he's not doing Shakespeare) off the hook for actually having to talk to his son. The film's educatrix is played by an unfortunately Sarah-Jessica-Parker-like Sarah Jessica Parker. SJP's teaching style (which I presume that she drew from her experience delivering thermodynamics lectures on 3-2-1 Contact!) is basically to trick the mark into thinking that they're dating. Also, Bradley Cooper stepped out of his comfort-zone to play a DB...but the details aren't that important. Basically, Failure To Launch is about a grown-up who hasn't grown up - he still identifies and lives more or less like an adolescent. I know I'm breaking with tradition here, by referencing a lousy film that I haven't seen. But if I had to guess (and I am informed that I, in fact, do have to guess), I'd posit that Failure ends with some personal growth and Matt & Sarah working things out...probably in a fairly unrealistic way (a cursory look at the film's Wikipedia entry seems to confirm this). I'd also bet that the personal growth didn't even require Gary Oldman to scootch around on his knees while trying to make his arms look shorter - because there are apparently no actual little people who are interested in acting (I know it's tough to make a Tiptoes reference when no one - at all - has seen Tiptoes, but I think I got the point across).

You may recall from my September 2012 post on the Hickory Horned Devil (NYT called it "compelling") that some caterpillars are so unique that they get their own name, separate from the moth or butterfly that they pupate into. But most caterpillars, like the Tiger Swallowtail caterpillar, just go by the name of their butterfly or moth - even if they are very interesting, themselves. The Salt-Marsh Caterpillar's situation is obviously different and a bit perplexing. While it's not unfair to call the Salt-Marsh Caterpillar caterpillar less than remarkable, the Salt-Marsh Caterpillar moth is actually very nice looking and, in my opinion, has some potential (you know, moth-potential...obviously). The Salt-Marsh Caterpillar moth doesn't see it that way, though. It's not terribly unusual, especially with the recession, that the Salt-Marsh Caterpillar would have some trouble getting its feet on the ground. But the issue here goes further. Estigmene acrea is a moth who feels that its better days are behind it. So, despite it's obviously inconsistent life situation, it continues to define itself as a high school football champion, or a frat-guy who still visits campus when the frosh are pledging, or a more subtle but similarly self-deluded female archetype (for example, referring to her manager's manager at work as her grand-big...does this ever happen?).

Salt-Marsh Caterpillar moths don't know when to say
when! I took this pic of one nursing a hangover after the
2012 Gathering of the Juggalos. Days after the event, she
was still all made up.

I plan to confront the Salt-Marsh Caterpillar about these issues shortly (hopefully it will go much more Oprah-Barak than Phil-Deena). But first, I'd like to come clean about my own past and tell a story about my own history in the care of bugs.

When I was a larva myself (around 6 years old), I was greatly dismayed at the state of health of the bugs I was finding on my porch (it was often Carpenter Bees on the Pooorch). This is why I founded the Bug Acupuncture and Rehabilitation Facility (BARF) (although much of the acupuncture would have been deemed trans-visceral and post-mortem). I ended up having to shut down the acupuncture operation after the IRS decided that the shadow boxes I was using provided me too much personal benefit to be claimed as a business expense (cops: come and try to snatch my crops...also my mounted insect collection. Luckily though, they left my old Cypress Hill CDs alone). What do you expect? Kindergarten was rough for me; I had fallen in with the wrong crowd (you know, nose-picking & temper-tantrums). Tax fraud was my third strike - bit I did my time (the judge gave me 10 minutes in the corner and I had to go to bed early).

So the bug hospital (BARF) didn't last...but, considering that most of the procedures we performed on live bugs involved little bits of Scotch tape "borrowed" from my mom (she ended up not wanting them back), I'm not sure that the net value of medical services available to the insect community diminished all that much following the bankruptcy proceedings and subsequent sell-off. Also, most of the bugs who weren't already locked in to Kaiser had lousy HMOs - how is a 6-year-old (who's parents still won't get him a fax machine) supposed to deal with all those cheap-o, denial-first plans?

The other inmates at my white-collar time-out facility told me that I probably would have been better off going into bug health insurance - but I wasn't in it for the money (I can't stand Jessie J, BTW. Also, have you seen her dance? If I may speak to her directly for a moment: You're an attractive lady JJ - work with that, not against it...well, why wouldn't I assume that she reads BugsIRL?).

Anyway, despite my (inauspicious) start in bug-medicine, I've lately been having more success in bug-counseling (see Hickory Horned Devil). So, as counseling is more and more becoming a cash-only business (I won't have to deal with non-competitive -  too often, criminally so -  health insurance companies!) with a much lower barrier to entry than some other health professions, it seems that all I need to do is hang up my e-certificate (click for degrees - I am a Phoenix!) and put a sign on my front door that says "Bug Therapy" (Whoa! Nice King's Speech ref, Brian! But I wonder what sorts of callers would come a'callin' if I actually put that sign up...probably my HOA, mostly).

So here goes - intervention time!

Listen Salt-Marsh Caterpillar (ugh, I can't even say that to her face! It's like addressing a 40-year-old who still goes by Timmy - or worse, T-Money!). We've known each other for a while and we've been through some stuff, but it's time for you to get yourself together! I don't know why your parents let you live in their basement for so long, or why your managers are always so mean to you, but it's grown-up time and you're late to the party.

Living somewhere that's more "chill" is not a
career path, in and of itself (even in Boulder).

Let's start off by talking about job stuff. I know that you've spent a lot of time pursuing some apparent dead ends. It's important to find some satisfaction in your work, but I think your problem is generally that you've been looking in the wrong places - or perhaps that you've been looking, with a skewed sense of your own talents, for something that strikes you as easy. I think maybe this pattern has continued a little too long in part because your false-starts were too easy to explain away. For example: seminary isn't for everyone (as I recall, your feelings changed dramatically when you realized that pastors don't just work one day a week), who knew that barber-college would be so expensive (were the other stylists underwhelmed by your bowl & clippers technique?), you spent a whole evening on that business plan but maybe it just wasn't clear how having your band there full time would benefit Pizza Hut, also...well I don't know how you flunked out of those free improv classes you signed up for...I could go on, but do you see that these are getting harder to explain away? It's become obvious to everyone around you that the real problem is something inside you - not fast-food management trainees that lack vision and not Yoga schools that frown on creativity.

But we've also got to have a conversation about your family - Arctiidae, the Tiger Moths (please don't Teresa me and screech profanities because I brought up your family). I don't want to blame them - your artistic, educational, and career path false starts are not their fault. But they are enablers. They make it alright for you and too many of your kin to just not grow up! I know that most of you eat grasses and low crops that someone else grew (we don't need to have a "47%" conversation here), but even those of you who feed on trees just go for the low-hanging fruit (such as apples)! Take your sister, for example: the Banded Woolybear (Isia isabella). Calling her a "woolybear" was cute when she was a larva, but she's a moth now. Further, who uses their name to advertise their band? BTW, have any of you told her that the influences on rap music are far too tenuous for a rag-time/hip-hop band to make any sense to people (let alone, sound anything less than...confused)?

Do you want another example? How about your cousin - Apantesis virgo, the Virgin Tiger Moth. He always was kind of a weenie. But his more recent boycott of anything that reminds him of Steve Carrell is just pathetic. Or how about your other cousin - Hyphantria cunea, the Fall Web Worm? I know you were always impressed with him, but living in a pup-tent in his parents' back yard neither makes him independent, nor a trailblazing outdoorsman.

This is the only life you're going to get, Salt-Marsh (yeah, yeah - I remember when you were a Buddhist...for like, a week! So don't even!)! By this point, you're probably never going to make it as a professional musician or entertainer - I think you'll be much happier with other aspects of your life once you can come to terms with that. That doesn't mean that those things can't be a fun hobby! But as long as you're focused on that stuff, you'll keep missing out on the important things. You still have time to make something of yourself, but life is short (especially yours: 6 weeks is normal in the mid-Atlantic) and the days are getting colder. I believe in your potential, Salt-Marsh. But it's time to apply that potential - preferably to something productive. But failing that: to something that allows you to support yourself, at a minimum.

Just one thing though...Whatever it is that you end up accomplishing: please don't let it involve laying 1200 eggs on my potatoes!

A girl who is warm and humanly during the day. A classy girl who know how to enjoy the freedom of a cup of coffee...Your older brother is Gangnam Style.
 - Psy, 2012