Bugging Out

I AM TEMPTED, when my door bell rings, to peak between the slats to get a quick preview, for preparation. We are admonished by venetian blind people to never split the slats apart with one's fingers, but rather, to turn the crank. That spares the blinds, but surrenders the advantage of undetection. Usually, I abandon the scheme and go straight to the door, ready for whatever. Curiosity prevents me from ignroing the door bell. A doorbell is like a telephone, no matter when you knock, when you call, or when somebody knocks or calls, something is being interrupted, if only navel gazing. Technically, it is impossible to do nothing,, anytime, anywhere. We exist, therefore we ceaselessly do something, or other. This time, it was right smack dab in the middle of one of my favorite soap operas, and the drama was at a denouement. Growling, I opened the front door. There stood a pleasant, well dressed young man, who introduced himself, not by name, but by profession. I instantly thought him cool because he was rolling, door to door, on a skateboard. He had come to offer me the opportunity to live in an insect free world, inside my house, and throughout my yard. He explained the process articulately, while I tried to listen with one ear, and to Luke and Laura with the other. (they were fighting, again.) He would "treat" inside my house, and would go below the foundation outside, covering with effective bug killing substances all surfaces, inside and out. Even the grass itself would cease to be a haven for tiny invaders. I would never see another bug again. In retrospect, it still surprises me how close I came to accepting his offer, partly because it was a one time offer, now or never, at a great discount, now's your chance. I have a friend who says that you can sell anything, if you sell yourself. I fully agree. I told him that at the end of the day, as we like to way, I relly had nothing aginst insects, in or out of my house, that I accepted and welcomed tham as part of the overall nature-thing, and neither found them to anything more than a mild nuisance, that I am one of these people who traps flies and spiders and releases them into the wild, and that, therefore, thanks, but no thanks. Two or three times, I forget the exact number, he informed me that many people feel differently, and wish to be rid of all insect life, as if he were educating me. I acknowledged this, thinking, but not saying, "so what?" To each her own, as we say. I could have said a lot more, but didn't, and I am proud of myself. If I had, I feared that he might induce that I was inpugning his profession, which was not at all my intent. Bottom line: there are way too many human manufactured poisonous chemicals in the world, ambient in the evironment, and not nearly enough insects. Insects, in fact, are rapidly going extinct, due to, you guessed it, homo sapien sapiens. For verification, ask any entymologist. Truthfully, I wanted to tell him, I would rather live in a world bereft of ambient chemicals, and replete with insects, just the way God, or whomever, intended, than a world made more barren daily by human intervention for the sake of human comfort and convenience. When he walked away, I had nearly resolved to turn my yard, which is rather large, into an "insect reserve", of the sort which are beginning to "spring up" all over the word, due to desperation. If nobody pollinates plants, we don't eat, nor do other animals. Inside my house will remain, technically, a kill free zone, with exceptions. I asked him for his business care - just in case. He told me he would be in town for, oh, another couple of days, and that if I changed my mind, please call. He seemed satisfied with this arrangement. I never did.