Across The Clouds I See My Shadow Fly

After tucking the girls into bed earlier this evening I sat down on the couch with my book (Me Talk Pretty One Day by David Sedaris which is laugh out loud funny and many thanks to Mike Benedetto for loaning it to me) to read until such time as I fall asleep. This is my new routine. I like it so don’t judge. As I was wiggling my butt into the groove that I’ve worn into the cushions by wiggling my butt into them every night for the last four years I heard the familiar buzz of a fly. It’s been quite a long time since I’ve had a fly in the house and although bugs inside are generally a nuisance the first fly of the season is not completely unwelcome. I craned my neck to locate him and watched as he bounced against the wall from one end to the other eventually disappearing behind the cone of my living room lamp. The room was silent and I delved into a story about a writing workshop that spent half their time watching One Life To Live.

Several chapters later I was just being introduced to a country bumpkin named Bonnie who verbally assaulted innocent New York cab drivers when a sudden ruckus caused me to lower my book. The sound was that of a schizophrenic fly having a nervous breakdown. I didn’t see the fly but as I gazed in the direction of his last know location I saw a cloud of dust rising from my lamp. This lamp is one of those that stands on the floor, reaches about 5 &12;’ tall with an inverted open cone at the top. I am not the kind of person who dusts regularly and when I do I don’t spend the time dusting out the inside of a lamp that no one can see into anyway. Is that lazy? Probably, but you wouldn’t have known if I didn’t tell you so at least I get points for being brutally honest.

Anyway, so I’m seeing this cloud of dust rising up out of the lamp and looking at the semi-opaque shade I can occasionally see the poor fly ram into the side as he spins wilding around the light bulb. This went on for a good 20 seconds which doesn’t seem like long but I’m sure it was quite an eternity for the fly. At the end he suddenly just flew out of the lamp and landed on the wall. Just standing there. On the wall. Doing nothing. The entire time I was writing this. In fact, he just a moment ago hopped from the wall back onto the outside of the lamp and disappeared around the backside. Part of me is hoping that he’ll head back in and clean out the rest of the dust saving me the trouble for another year or so but I hardly think I’d be that fortunate. With my luck he’ll die in there and then I’ll have to empty out his carcass.

The whole thing brings me to a serious question that I’ve pondered several times in the past while changing light bulbs. How do insects get into closed light fixtures and even more importantly why do they want to be there in the first place? A glass dome fixed over a light bulb hanging from the ceiling hardly appears to be a happening party place and yet every time I have to replace a burned out bulb there are dead bugs in the dome. My theory is that it’s insect fraternity hazing gone horribly awry. Stranger things have happened.

Stranger things like the fly suddenly, inexplicably zooming out of the lamp then diving straight back in like some sort of kamikaze pilot on speed, whirling around the inside of the cone then tearing out to slam into the wall before recklessly throwing himself back at the light bulb. Seriously, he just did. He’s quiet now, apparently resting for his next near death experience. I am sharing my home with a manic-depressive suicidal insect. I wonder if that will lower the value of my home.