Love is in the air

There was a lot of honeymooning cut short this weekend as I drove west first and then back east. I've always believed if you're going to call it a relationship, it's best to do it in a spectacular, gut-spattering way. Of course, I meant that all figuratively, not literally. However, try to tell that to the members of the insecta kingdom*, who in the throes of their delirious passion, ended up splat on my windshield and the front of my car, complete with gravel-like sound effects. I tell you, there's nothing more frightening than a black cloud of insects kamikazing themselves against your windshield, leaving behind little bits and white smeared stuff which I suspect is the insect form of blood, but not being a biology major, couldn't tell you for sure.

The insects got their revenge as I headed back. I stopped to get some gas, not far from where I had first met the swarm heading east. I hadn't even gotten out of the car before they started to attack me, a la Alfred Hitchcock. I flailed at the bugs, somehow managed to start the pump, and ran towards the grocery store, screaming about the bugs. Meanwhile, other people were standing around as if there weren't 80 gazillion mating bugs attacking their cars, children, dogs, etc.

One woman looked at me oddly as a particularly amorous couple landed on her arm and said, "Well, yes, there are a lot of bugs. So what?" I just looked at her -- as best as I could while still doing jumping jacks to avoid the bugs -- and asked, "Haven't you seen 'The Birds'?" She just stared at me and I made a run for it. You can't say I didn't do my part to warn my fellow human beings about the insect threat.

I managed to leave the parking lot with only one mating couple inside of my car. Luckily, they were so in love, they didn't get much further than the window, so it was easy to shoo them out once I was on the road. As I continued to drive, I thought it was interesting how the bugs continued to fly madly two by two, when obviously it'd be more aerodynmic and efficient to attack the humans as individuals -- not to mention, the two-by-two method was obviously the more suicidal one as they continued to bust up against my windshield. Who knew the insect world had Borg characteristics? Unlike the Borg, however, it doesn't appear the insects learn from their mistakes; I was far from being the only one with bug guts all over my car. Poor buggies.

I can't help but think insects -- other than the windshield thing -- have it really easy when it comes to relationships. They probably sit there with their checklist saying, "Wings, yup, atennae, yup, six legs, yup, a little short in the thoracic cavity, but hey, he's got a really orange head. Let's hook up." Bugs simply don't have the luxury of time, to be able to sit around and contemplate various candidates for happily ever after.

Whereas with people, it's so much more complicated and we sit around wondering** if person A we just met is "the one" or even though person B meets all of the checklist requirements, is that really enough? We should probably just take a lesson from the insect kingdom and just go for it. None of this five-year dating and two-year engagement stuff. Just meet, decide if the other person meets your basic requirements and vice-versa, and just go for it -- you'll*** have the rest of your lives to figure out whether you actually like each other. Some will argue this is probably a recipe for human relationships to go splat on the windshield; I argue it's a biological imperative and probably a lot less confusing.

* I don't know much about bugs, but maybe some bug lovers out there can identify a flying insect with an orange head, and two body sections. And oh yes, they have white insides.

** I honestly don't think paleolithic man and woman sat around contemplating relationships either. They probably just grunted at each other a few times, paleolithic man presented the paleolithic woman with a bison instead of a diamond ring and that was that. I'm just sayin'.

*** I mean this in the most generic of ways.