A Ramblin’ Gamblin’ Willie story
Tuesday, August 11, 2020 – Rio Nuevo, AZ
“And in the end, even though nobody planned it that way, that was the meme that ended the war.”
Thalia said that – and the truth is, I should treat her better.
“I’m sorry. Say what?”
“You were drowsing again. The point is, everyone was dreading a war war – and there was some of that. But it was more of a meme war.”
“No, go back further. I think I might have missed everything. What are we talking about?”
“The Grasshopper Rebellion. Did you really snooze through the whole story?”
I shrugged. “I think we have to assume I did. My apologies.”
I really should treat her better. Right now she’s all I’ve got.
And it has been a long, long quarantine for Uncle Willie. No choo-choo train to drive, of course, but the train has been waning with the mall, anyway. But much worse is this: My whole schtick is built around talking to strangers, and this is practically impossible for now.
I’m talking about the Coronavirus pandemic of 2020, if you are reading this in some other year. And: With luck, a year from now, this is all a memory.
But Thalia deserves much better than she gets from me. You could say that she’s just a hanging yard ornament on my front patio, a brightly-bejewled copper butterfly who is too-easily upended by the winds. Or you could see her as she sees herself, as the homebody flower-sniffer who flits about the northwest suburbs of Phoenix, always coming home with tales to tell. Or you could look upon her as Homer did, as the inspiration of humor – and hope.
For me, she’s all of that and more: She talks to me when almost no one else can.
“Do I really have to start at the beginning?”
I grinned. “Start in the middle. Make me work to catch up.”
“The middle meme in a meme war? How about this one, from the Ants? ‘Ants Give A Damn!’”
“…Maybe a little more context…”
“Aesop’s Fables? The Ants and the Grasshoppers?”
“Yeah. So?”
“So what happens when the Grasshoppers have had enough scorn from the Ants?”
“…I don’t think I’ve ever seen any Grasshoppers around here. And none of Aesop’s big black Ants, either.”
“And that would be the point of the story, wouldn’t it?”
“Snot. What’s the meme that ended the war?”
“‘Death To Ants!’”
“Yeah, that just might do it…”
“It’s a long way from, ‘Grasshoppers Count!’ That was the first meme – long before anyone knew it was a war.”
“A perfect pitch. Who could argue with it?”
“A play on words, too. The Grasshoppers and the Ants did a lot of business with each other – but the business end of the business was always the Ants. Grasshoppers sing, dance and play. Any actual accounting was done by the Ants.”
“That seems a little harsh.”
“Which way? Are the Grasshoppers too lax? Are the Ants too obsessive? Or are they just too different to live together in peace? You could say the differences made the market. The Ants were only too happy to supply the unending needs of the Grasshoppers. But that’s where the resentment came from, too. Much too easy for the Grasshoppers to look pathetic to the Ants. Much too easy for the Ants to look upon the Grasshoppers with contempt.”
“If grievances were gravy, there still wouldn’t be any meat for dinner.”
“Very funny. But you’re right about the grievances. Anytime a Grasshopper felt aggrieved, he would start chanting, ‘Grasshoppers Count! Grasshoppers Count! Grasshoppers Count!’ To that was added a second meme – also untrue – ‘Ants Cheat!’ After a while, huge crowds of Grasshoppers would gather to chant: ‘Grasshoppers Count! Ants Cheat! Grasshoppers Count! Ants Cheat!’”
“Why wouldn’t Ants cheat?”
“Well, some would. But those creeps were more like Grasshoppers than Ants. Everyone called them Grants. There were Anthoppers, too, Grasshoppers who lived more like Ants. But what made the Ants so trustworthy comes down to their religions. They had a lot of different churches, but the creed of all them boiled down to one idea: Never bring shame upon your father, whomever you see that as being. Those big black Ants lived in families, married for life, and they raised their kids to live in families, married for life – well-raised kids raising well-raised kids.”
“And the Grasshoppers?”
“Just the opposite, in every way you could imagine. Where the Ants valued Dads, the Grasshoppers idolized Cads – charming losers who leave nothing behind but their abandoned offspring. Ants build, and they want not one second of their labor to be wasted. Grasshoppers use, even destroy, and they waste as few seconds as possible on labor. The original story said, ‘There’s a time for work and a time for play.’ Ants work. Grasshoppers play.”
“Are you taking sides?”
She just blinked at me for a moment. “Which side? We are what we are. Grasshoppers see their lives in seasons, never planning much beyond the present day’s sunset. Ants see their lives whole – and plan accordingly. Neither is wrong, necessarily. Just wrong for each other. But it’s a hard life out there, even in a manicured back yard.”
“When did the Ants start to push back?”
“You know when – when the violence started. First just vandalism, then looting and arson, then looting and arson night after night.”
“And the Ants did what?”
“I told you. ‘Ants Give A Damn!’ It was practically a PR campaign, pointing out everything the Ants were doing for the Grasshoppers. But it backfired, since the implication was that Grasshoppers don’t give a damn. That would be true, of course, from the Ant point of view, but it’s deeply insulting to Grasshoppers, anyway.”
“What isn’t?”
“Are you taking sides?”
I grinned. “I am one with the Anthoppers, I think.”
Thalia grinned back at me. “Me, too, I guess. There’s nothing wrong with living for a season, provided you don’t live any longer than that. I have cousins who fly halfway across the globe. I can’t imagine living a fulfilled life without a plan.”
“Did the Ants respond with violence?”
“Not as much as you’d think. Ants abhor destruction, even in self-defense. What they did was argue – or at least they tried to.”
“But the Grasshoppers wouldn’t listen.”
“And you said you were sleeping.”
“I’ve heard this story before.”
“Not the good part.”
“Which is…?”
“I told you. ‘Death To Ants!’ That one meme ended the war, practically overnight.”
How thoroughly can you dread the worst? “What did the Ants do about it?”
Thalia spun in place two or three times, just because she can, just to torment me. “They left!”
“…?”
“They just packed up and left. They knew something the Grasshoppers had never guessed.”
“And that is…?”
“Grasshoppers need Ants, but Ants don’t need Grasshoppers.”
“And the Anthoppers?”
“What do you think?”
“I think they left with the Ants. And the Grants stayed behind to exploit the Grasshoppers, didn’t they?”
“Correct on both counts. Appearances can be deceiving, but bugs of a certain stench can always be counted on to stink up the place.”
“Now who’s taking sides?”
“Oh, it got bad. At first, the Grasshoppers thought it was heaven. They had the loot of everything the Ants left behind. But that didn’t last long. Invested capital replenishes itself, but digested capital gets flushed once and is gone forever. Ants or no Ants, life is a lifelong marshmallow test that Grasshoppers routinely fail. They seemed to think they would feel better about that, once the Ants were gone. They were mistaken, sadly, but at least there were fewer marshmallow tests to fail.”
I grimaced. “And fewer Grasshoppers.”
“Fewer every day. The Grants promised a Grasshopper Reservation – with a casino and everything – but all Cads and no Dads adds up to no future for anyone. Addictions. Gang wars. Broken glass everywhere – and no one to fix anything. Some Grasshoppers mounted an expedition to go find and rejoin the Ants. They called themselves The Latter-Day Anthoppers. Mostly, though, the Grasshoppers just stopped having kids. The Ants moved away, and just like that there were no Grasshoppers left.”
“Now that’s a story worth sleeping through.”
“Like fun! You were expecting the worst and we both know it. Even so, Ants don’t leave buttons unbuttoned. Long after the Grasshoppers were gone, an old, old Ant came back to see his childhood home. Every creature in the yard gathered around to hear him speak – crickets, red ants, spiders, even some snakes and lizards.”
“What did he say?”
“For a long time, nothing. Then he held up an arm and said, ‘Hard work pays off – when you have a plan.’ He raised another arm. ‘Worthy rewards are worth waiting for.’ Then a third arm, this one holding a cane. ‘And make your father proud!’”
I blinked rapidly for no reason I care to name. “I’m lucky to have you in my life, Thalia.” Yes. A shimmering yard ornament, a galavanting butterfly, a Greek muse. You should have such a friend.
She said, “Same here.”
