Well… the Memorial Day weekend passed with another trip to Portland for Jennifer, my nephew and I; leaving all of us exhausted and causing me to take a few days off to recover.
The trip started, as usual, on the Cascade Amtrak to Portland, followed by the customary Max-O-Matic ride to my brother’s home where we picked up his son Jeremy for a ride into the Robertson Tunnel that runs beneath the hills on the west side of Portland. The Max station, located far below Washington Park, is where a person disembarks to find – among other things – the Oregon Zoo.
My very significant other, Jennifer, was in one of those mellow, serene moods I’ve come to appreciate in her. Calm and reflective, she kept smiling at Jeremy’s mischievous seven-year-old boy antics, calmly telling him that urinating on elderly people is not appropriate behavior. When Jeremy responded, “Awww… piss on fucking behavioral mores Auntie,” Jennifer’s smile turned a bit sad, but she just turned to look into the darkness of the subterranean passage.
At the tunnel station we climbed off the train to examine a plastic tube filled with a core sample accompanied by a timeline. Jennifer and I tried to interest Jeremy in the display, but he said, “Piss on timelines! Let’s go see the monkeys!” Jennifer and I both looked at each other – wondering how my brother had talked us into taking Jeremy anywhere further than the reform school – but we shrugged it off, taking the elevator up to the zoo.
At the gate a very old fellow and his spouse – the couple Jeremy had urinated on -purchased discounted tickets while we waited in line behind them. The couple looked back a couple of times after hearing Jeremy say, “Where the fuck are the monkeys?”
I overheard the elderly gent ask the gatekeeper, “Do you have days set aside for adults only?” After the clerk told them no, the elderly couple looked back at Jeremy, then around at the numerous children there, before turning back toward the parking lot –both lighting cigarettes with shaking hands, reminiscing about things I might have guessed.
At the ticket office the clerk, who had witnessed the whole thing, looked at Jeremy, asking us if we’d like to purchase the special ZooCare ticket for the boy. Asking what ZooCare is, we listened to her explain that it’s like daycare, but better. Jennifer and I stepped back for a moment to discuss this option, quickly deciding that if my brother couldn’t handle him, we might not do much better. Besides, as we quietly spoke Jeremy yelled, “Hurry up you cocksuckers, I want to see the monkeys!” Our new friend at the ticket office was already on the phone calling a ZooCare provider to escort my nephew to the facility. Jeremy was distracted for the moment as he used a medical piece to self-medicate with his prescription for the new ADHD strain approved by the Oregon Health Administration Plan.
Jennifer and I are disciples of the Magnificent One, Miss MedBud Mama, but only in spiritual philosophy, as neither of us uses marijuana, although both of us have in the past. MedBud is the 390 pound, 6’9” landed Dutch immigrant transsexual who works as a marijuana advocate by day and a phone sex provider by night, frequently prostrating herself for the good of humanity. Although my brother, Ralph claims that marijuana helps Jeremy with his ADHD, MedBud is opposed to prescribing it for children. Still, Ralph’s belief that marijuana is preferable to the amphetamine commonly prescribed may be reasonable.
A nicely dressed young woman approached the gate, pulling us aside while Jeremy amused himself flipping off people driving through the parking area. The woman explained to us that ZooCare offers more intimate interactions with the animals, along with a structured learning experience, a nutritious meal and other benefits. We were surprised when she told us that the daily rate for ZooCare is less than the price of two popcorns at the café, but later we saw the prices. The woman explained to us that she would take Jeremy with her and we could have the gatekeeper call when we finished touring the zoo; the reason being that we wouldn’t disturb the children in ZooCare that way. And off they went, Jeremy poking his finger into a posterior orifice, then wiping his finger on the bottom hem of the woman’s beautiful skirt.
Jennifer and I both relaxed, realizing that we could enjoy the exhibits in peace without worrying about Jeremy, who seemed to be in fine hands. The critters in the zoo are well cared for, but you can sense some anxiety in some species that are not too happy in captivity. Many of the creatures come from small populations of endangered species where humans have encroached on their environments, making zoos museums of sorts. Jennifer explained that, as the status of women increases in modern societies, birth rates go down; but it’s not happening fast enough to reduce the human population of the planet. In short, the natural world is likely to largely vanish in this century.
Still, despite a bit of sadness, it was a nice day and many of the animals seemed very content. At the native black bear exhibit we watched a big bear climb a tree. The way it’s set up on a hillside with viewing areas at the top and bottom leaves visitors at the top level with bears atop the trees. A crazy woman couldn’t be convinced that the bear is capable of climbing back down and called 911 to rescue the creature. As they usually do, emergency personnel arrived quickly, assessed the situation, then shot the bear out of the tree, catching it in a net at the bottom. Unfortunately, the police officer doing the shooting didn’t have a tranquilizer gun. The situation arose so quickly that zoo employees didn’t have time to intervene.
As the bear hit the net another bear came out of their den, mauling the police officer before he could get another shot off. The woman who had called 911 kept yelling “murderer” after the first bear was shot, then began cheering the second bear on. The cop used his “homeless spray” on the second bear while we wandered off to the next exhibit before Portland became any weirder.
It was a nice day. The denizens of the zoo include an aged chimpanzee and an old elephant. They both have that sage look in their eyes, like they’ve seen too many things to get too excited about anything new; given the unlikely chance anything new shows up. As we enjoyed the exhibits a voice came over the intercom saying, “Mr. and Mrs. Pedersen, please come to the gate.” We looked at each other, simultaneously wondering what Jeremy had done this time.
At the gate the attendant, while maintaining fair composure, seemed pretty upset. The woman told us that the only access to the tunnel – the elevator – had a problem and it might be a while before the kids at ZooCare could be brought back to the surface. Not too alarmed, Jennifer and I began asking questions.
Jennifer, still calm and very collected asked, “Where is the ZooCare facility?”
The attendant calmly explained that it is in a subterranean area adjacent to the Robertson Tunnel. The woman went on to say, “We have to pump air into ZooCare, but those systems are still fine, although the lighting is down.”
Jennifer gently smiled at the woman while another parent nearby started screaming hysterically about her little Alfred being in danger. “Are you saying that Jeremy is in a pitch black subterranean room with a bunch of animals?”
“Uhh… yes, that’s the essence of it, but it’s a very nice, large subterranean area. It does smell rather badly due to the adjacent area where we store our ZooPoo being so close, but it’s pretty nice down there.”
Jennifer and I looked at each other, not quite sure how to assess the situation, while the woman took a call on her phone.
Hanging up the phone the woman said, “The elevator has been repaired, we’ll bring Jeremy up when you folk finish your visit.”
We both looked at the woman while explaining that we’d like to actually see ZooCare ourselves. She responded by calling the same ZooCare Provider who had initially escorted Jeremy. The gate attendant then told us to take the elevator down to the tunnel where we met Ruby again. Entering a mechanical room at one end of the tunnel we immediately turned to the left, ascending a stairway that crossed above the tracks, then descending into ZooCare.
Ruby smiled as both Jennifer and I looked on in astonishment at the huge area that is brilliantly lit with powerful halide and sodium fixtures suspended from a ceiling nearly fifty feet over our heads. A broad spectrum of fauna and landscape created a savannaesque scene inside the area covering nearly five acres alongside Robertson Tunnel.
To say that we were astounded is understating the width of our eyes and the expressions on our faces. Ruby laughed a bit before offering a wide smile with explanations. Both Jennifer and I liked the woman before we allowed her to initially take Jeremy. She dresses casually, but in a manner that somehow tells others she is caring and intelligent. The woman shares many of The Magnificent One’s qualities in that she also shines with a glowing complexion much younger than the time reference on her identification (Ruby’s about 35years old). At first glance you wouldn’t know that she’s not opposed to physical labors. Looking closer you see the small scars on her hands and some dirt beneath the nails. Ruby also enjoys treating her existential dysphoria (ED) with Purple Panacea from the revered strain of medicine the MedTree of Life gave to the world. Her eyes, like MedBud’s shine with a light that seems to have passed through light years to illuminate thoughts building wisdom beyond her years.
“It must be tough for parents to let their children out of their sight, especially when they’re going with people you don’t know,” Jennifer said.
We explained our relationship with Jeremy as Jennifer picked a few blossoms off a nearby plant, placing it into a strange handheld device she’d taken from her pocket. Looking around the grasslands I noticed that much of the grass is cannabis and even a few of the small trees appear related. About that time I noticed the enormous elephant emerging from behind a small tree with Jeremy on his back. Looking toward Ruby, Jennifer and I must have seemed bewildered. She smiled broadly, handed Jennifer the device, then began explaining, “Go ahead Jennifer; please feel free to have a dose from my handheld vaporizer.”
Surprised, Jennifer responded, “No thank you. I feel fine, but I’m a tad confused.”
Jeremy atop the enormous beast approached as Ruby went on, “You see, we identified Jeremy’s condition before we left with him. After we gathered him at the gate we determined that he is a patient and that his parents are disciples of the high priests of medicine.
As Jennifer and I listened to the woman the elephant kept approaching. Previously obscured by the mammoth beast known as Packy, an incredibly gorgeous woman emerged from behind the animal. The woman who prostrates herself for the good of humanity, the Magnificent Miss MedBud Mama, wore her characteristic attire, a finely woven and crafted hemp fabric moo moo covered with brilliant designs – this time butterflies and rainbows.
Many people have compared the arrival of the Magnificent One to Botticelli’s painting Birth of Venus. The vibrant health of her flowing tresses falling to her waist below a face that radiates not only beauty, but compassion and benevolence, leaves a person with a sense of well-being that stay long after she is gone. Not too bad for a 390 pound 6’9” landed Dutch immigrant transsexual who loves her mother and prostrates herself for the good of humanity!
Anyway, everyone smiled back at the Radiant One. Suddenly Packy reached over his head with his trunk, grabbing Jeremy, then throwing him high into the air before catching him to redeposit the boy on his back. Jeremy laughed joyously in a manner we’re not accustomed to, really glowing the way happy children do.
Approaching closer, Mama modestly brushed our respectful wais aside with the graceful sweep of an elegant hand. Jeremy stood atop Packy’s huge head, acting as if he were going to expose himself, then urinate on us. He said something about us all being part of the UriNation, then suddenly seemed calm and reflective, extending a wai toward the four adults so far below his platform. With that he repositioned himself on Packy’s back and the two of them wandered off while we queried MedBud with our eyes before I asked her if she had given Jeremy Navel Kief.
MedBud smiled and said, “You know that the doctrine of the church of MedLandia doesn’t allow for the medication of children. Packy is responsible for much of the transformation you’re witnessing. Both of us have given Jeremy something that no one can buy anyone, but we all can give: pure love. You see, Jeremy suffers from the same affliction many patients suffer, existential dysphoria, or ED. Many factors contribute to the condition, but desire is by far the worst pathogen. The manifestations of desire include greed, possessiveness and ultimately despair when we cannot be happy with what it is we have. Need is a much different thing because we can’t live without certain things. Fulfilling desires is also fine if the things we desire don’t own us, as in the case of some addictions – sex for instance”
Ruby, Jennifer and I quietly listened, all of us shuffling our feet a bit as we contemplated the Magnificent One’s words. Packy returned, lifting Jeremy off his back and gently placing the boy on the ground. Mama climbed atop Packy, giving us that long, sweeping wave characteristic of beauty queens on parade before her and Packy faded into the distance. Jeremy stood quietly, waving at the pair as they left, then we all headed back to the surface where we ran into the elderly couple who had decided to return to the zoo. They were headed to the gate when they saw Jeremy and immediately headed back toward their parked car. Jeremy ran after the couple, then asked the elderly gentleman if he could “shake his weenie.” After the horrified old folks climbed into their car, Jeremy came back with a smile on his lip and in his eyes. I asked him what he thought he was doing and he replied “Rome wasn’t built in a day.”
Here are the top CHS posts from this week in 2012:
