It’s Only an Ambush if You’re Stupid

Those of you who know me well are aware that my long life has been full of enough odd and precarious experiences to allow for a certain skepticism regarding the reasonableness, maybe even sanity, of human behavior in most things. I’m unsurprised at overwhelming stupidity when most other people might be. However, I am astounded at times, often horrifically, that we have risen high enough above other species to feed ourselves, invent the wheel, and remain at the top of nature’s food chain even with our opposable thumbs. Consider this recent event as a prime example.

A real estate agent was visiting a home in rural South Carolina, not all that far away from my home in Georgia. Her purpose was clear and professional. The house would soon be put up for sale, and she needed to appraise it along with the property. After concluding a tour and speaking with the current occupants, she turned to leave and noticed a small pond on the outer border of the land a short distance from the wooden frame house. The agent remarked how nice it looked and mentioned that its presence might add some monetary value to the place. The lady of the house agreed but warned her to stay away from it in no uncertain terms. The pond perimeter was dangerous because a rather large alligator considered the area home and was very territorial. The agent thanked the woman for her words of caution.

As the agent walked back to her car, she noticed the alligator resting its head leisurely on the bank with its body submerged behind it in the pond. I have no idea what she was thinking, but I assume it may have been something on the order of, “what a cute little brute,” and retrieved her camera from her bag. As she moved toward the pond and the creature, the woman from the house attempted to wave her away frantically. The real estate agent waved back, nodded, and began  snapping pictures as she tiptoed forward. Reaching the pond, she kneeled and attempted to pet the beast on the head. If you’re reading this while eating lunch, you may want to stop here.

Alligators are ambush predators. That means that they stay very still while they hunt, with their eyes and nostrils above water. When an unsuspecting prey gets close, they rush out of the water, grab their prey, and roll to drown them underwater. Which is exactly what happened to the curious real estate agent. The poor woman struggled to get to the surface once as the homeowner reached her and tried to help. The agent’s last words were spoken directly and calmly at her would-be rescuer. “Well, I guess I won’t try that again.”

How strange and tragic, and in a way, profound. The poor thing had uttered her last words as a perfect epitaph to be carved into her headstone. “Well, I guess I won’t try that again.”  I’m repeating this grim event on the page because of those last words and because they so aptly parallel where we, as a country and as a society, seem to be at this moment in history. We are in a crucial moment of our history regarding the life of the very ideas and ideals upon which we claim to honor. Yet, millions of voters cling to the idea that we can re-elect the same vicious, incompetent, racist, megalomaniac thug that we did in 2016 without having to utter that same phrase as our country disintegrates, and we struggle for the survival of America as America. Think about the importance of our vote in the 2024 presidential election and remember the consequences of having to speak that disastrous phrase after it’s too late – well, I guess we shouldn’t have tried that again.