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This piece was written in '92 - my God; last century and decades ago when, while paraplegic, I was working full-time and fully independent and needed no attendant care! But while looking for another piece for Car for MS Musings I found this. I am an avid news junkie but, endless ad nauseum election 'news' aside, various interpersonal inhumanities keep cropping up and this re-discovered essay screamed for exposure. I believe the Philadelphia Daily News ran it as an OP ED piece, but I forgot to add it to my bibliography. But I wanted to share it here…
Jeffrey Dahmer, the L.A. riots, crack-house killings, children shot and killed for their sneakers and gold ear rings: there seems to be a relentless litany of inhumanity and perversion jumping out at us whenever we open a newspaper or turn on a television. I am sick of it!
Did I mention I have a spider living in my bathtub?
It really is relevant. That spider brought a lot of things into focus. I suggest beginning a national movement of the Bathroom Spiders.
Let me explain.
As I am paralyzed from the waist down, I shower by transferring onto a bench over my tub that extends out so I can get my wheelchair right next to it. Once transferred, I slide over, draw the curtain and use a hand-held shower. I'm explaining all this because it is the reason the spider hasn't drowned and been flushed down the drain.
It was about a week ago that I first noticed... him(?) Her? It? What's the proper personal pronoun for a spider when a microscopic examination isn't practical? To be safe, I'll use "it".
Anyway, I was adjusting the water temperature when I noticed a small black blob scurrying for safety. It had a small web in the far inside corner of the tub enclosure and curled up in a little ball to avoid the mist and droplets I inadvertently sent in its direction. I was in a hurry and ignored it. I had to get ready for work. But as I could see it every moment I sat there, I tried to avoid hitting it with any water spray. I had no idea why.
The next night as I showered (I work nights and get ready around 9 pm), there it was again. A small black shape patiently curling up to endure another shower. I started to reach for some toilet paper to scoop web and occupant up and then down the toilet, but something stopped me and, again, I ignored it and avoided washing it down the drain. I still didn't stop to think why.
Three more nights and careful showers, and then the sixth night as I sat there, dripping wet and staring at the spider, I finally knew why it was still alive. It was alive because of the endless parade of misery displayed on CNN.
Night after night as I watch Headline News while getting dressed and together to go to work, I am immediately faced with images of starving children in Somalia, ethnic violence in South Africa, atrocities in the Balkans, riots in the streets of America, or for a change, a mere hurricane or earthquake. The key element is the same: spectacular and violent news. More grist for the sensation-hungry media machine.
In part, my reluctance to kill that spider grew out of all this pervasive inhumanity and violence.
Why should I kill it? Spiders are useful critters in nature's food chain. They eat nuisance insects. And, as a former artist (fine coordination problems put an end to that avenue), I appreciate the intricacy and beauty of a spiderweb. Especially when I look at early morning sunshine on a dew-speckled silken masterpiece. Practical artistry. As a species, we're only beginning to learn a little about that. So, why destroy it?
I am sick of killing.
I work the night shift at a major inner city hospital and I doubt a night goes by without Fire Rescue bringing in a shooting or stabbing victim to the emergency room. Sometimes we get several in one night.
Hostile fire. Friendly fire. Police officers shot in the line of duty mingle with perpetrators of violence whose choice has doubled back to mete out its own justice. For spice, we have domestic squabbles that have escalated from harsh words and blows to kitchen cutlery or night-stand-stashed hand guns.
But often the common element among the victims is their innocence. Too many are merely individuals who happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. Too many innocents.
It is now three o'clock in the morning as I write this on my laptop computer in a quiet moment at work. Tomorrow when I get home, I am going to gently scoop that spider up and drop it outside my patio door where it can find a new home and a better supply of food.
Pointless? After all, it will soon be dead anyway.
NO!
If everyone would just take a moment to consider the sanctity of life and relationships, perhaps this world would be a better place. I try to do this in my published and pending fiction where I often concoct an admittedly optimistic, better tomorrow with peace, plenty and fascinating explorations and adventures. But with this spider, I bring this quest for consideration home to the here and now. Maybe I just needed a reminder of that. A reminder of the fact that we all have to address the here and now as well as dreaming for the future. Even if we begin on a small scale. Our homes and families, and our neighborhoods and cities.
Something to think about.
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