Danny and Maggie      Late Monday night there came a tapping upon the sliding door which opens onto my back porch. An eerie glow and a low cough preceded it, so it was with great trepidition that I crept from my couch and pushed back the curtains to see what it could be.

    There I beheld the most enormous beetle. He was at least an inch and a half long--possibly 3 centimeters for you metrics out there. Now I'm no entymologist, but I usually don't see beetles like this around my house. (An entymologist is someone who wears insects ornamentally, especially as hats or cod-pieces) I ran for my camera and began taking pictures.
     It was about that time that I began to hear the gruff voice.

     "Joe," said the voice, "listen to me! This is your dad's third cousin Danny speaking." Hmm... I don't remember any Dannys.

     "My step-father's cousin or my real father's cousin?" I ask, seeking clumsy exposition.

     "What? Oh, uh..," he wagged his antennae nervously, "Real father. Yeah, thats it. Your real father's cousin Danny." He seemed to gain his confidence back. "I know we never really met," sez the beetle, "but I have a message for you--one so important that I came back as an enormous beetle to talk to you." I grabbed a notepad and a pencil, ready to take down some posthumous advice from the insect manifestation of my heretofor unknown distant cousin Dan. "OK, so here it is," he continued, "Tomorrow morning you're planning on taking a shower, am I right?" I knodded, amazed at his prescience, "It is really important that you NOT use the dandruff shampoo."

     I began furiously scribbling down his celestial tip, when another ghastly green glow pulsed and faded. There, less than two feet from Danny, appeared an enormous and annoyed grasshopper. From the gloom came a woman's voice, irritated and sharp in tone.


     "Danny," snapped the grasshopper, "I'm getting sick of this crap." The beetle, obviously agitated, walked in a tight circle, wagging his mandibles.
     "Don't pay attention to that grasshopper, Joe," he desperately requested, "Its a, ah, a bad spirit."

     "A bad spirit?" came the grasshopper's incredulous reply, "Danny, I'm your WIFE. And if you were half a man you would quit bothering people and come back to bed."

     Angry now, the beetle advanced threateningly towards the grasshopper, yelling, "Maggie, just why the fuck did you have to come out here? Huh?" his carapace was shivering with rage, "A guy just wants to help his relatives out, maybe have a little bit of a good time, and what does his lovely wife do? You got nerve, Mags, you've got nerve."

     "Help?" her voice rose to a shriek, "Help? Danny, I wouldn't trust you to lead a man to the toilette!" She then turned to me, "So, what was it this time? 'Don't use the mouthwash?' Or was it, 'BEWARE THE FLOSS?!?' Oh, I know, my favorite, 'sacrifice your beer to me!' Well?"

     She seemed to be waiting. I lifted my jaw from the floor, cleared my throat, and told her about the shampoo taboo. She hopped in anger and landed full square in front of Danny, who began to cower, trying to hide his legs under his abdomen.

     "Danny, you've gone too far." she her wings shook gently with disappointment, "You gotta stop this. You're pathetic. Every night you manifest and give advice no one needs. Just what would happen if Joe here used the shampoo, anyway?"
     "Well..," the beetle tilted, looking up at the grasshopper hopefully, "he might get some in his eyes?"

     "So to spare him from having to rinse his eyes out, you would have the poor man go all flakey-scalped?" she gently placed one of her left legs on my cousin's shell, "No one likes to see dandruff, Danny. C'mon home," her tone warmed considerably, "we can still catch the Johnny Carson show."

     "But, surely you mean Jay Leno," I piped up, "Isn't Johnny Carson dead?" Maggie leveled an appraising gaze at me, paused thoughtfully and then said,

     "So what's your point?" with that, the grasshopper bounded off into the night, leaving Danny behind momentarily.

     "Well, uh," Dan stroked his front legs through his jaws thoughtfully, "I guess this is it." From the distance we heard Maggie,
    "COME ON, DANNY!"
    Dan turned and began crawling away. Tears welled in my eyes.
     "But Dan, you could teach me so much!" I fought a sob, "We never really got a chance to talk."

     "You'll be OK, kid," came the reply from the darkness, "and don't forget what I said about the shampoo!" Darkness consumed the now-quiet Michigan night and I was once again left all alone. I just knew, however, that I would never forget them, or the valuable lesson they taught me.

I love you, Dan and Maggie, and someday we'll meet again. I just know it.

These bugs actually did visit me on my back porch monday night. I took all these pictures. Wether or not there were spirits in them, I may never know. I didn't want to open the door, because that would let bugs in the house. Yuck. Click on the pictures for blow-ups.  ¶ 2:13 PM