Go Fish! Go!

Remember all those tasks I was supposed to have done yesterday but instead wrote a rambling review about a t.v. show? Yeah, that happened, so today I'm trying to get this out of the way pretty much before anything else really to hopefully move my productivity levels out of the zone of "eh, run-on sentences are not as beneficial and laudable as like, running a mile" to "taking care of business like BTO."

So, as I stared at this blog's homepage wondering what to write about, I found myself becoming totally entranced in the motion of the fish at the top. Like a cat staring into a virtual fishbowl with the top open, I sat silently staring, trying to detect a pattern in their behavior. Though they definitely are not as enchanting as real fish (and have been described by more than one person as "looking exactly like sperm"), it's still amazing how long fish in motion can be of interest to the eye.

Considering this sent me to the archives of childhood to consider great fish tanks in days of yore. My pediatrician had a huge fish tank. It was positioned high enough in his waiting room that you could stare up and see all of the fish moving, floating, and swimming among the green plants that were stuck in there without actually being able to paw all over the glass or do anything that might result in injury to fish or child. A great way to pass the time if other kids were playing with all available toys or reading all the Highlights for Children magazines. My pediatrician also gave you a pretzel stick when you were done with your appointment. Good times.

Mr. Rogers also had a fish tank that figured into childhood. He let us watch him watching the fish. It was confirmation that yes, yes that curiosity you have IS ok. They are interesting to watch. Go right ahead. And, he also took special care to feed them, providing us lessons in what it means to have a pet. Gotta take care of them! Responsibility and curiosity - no wonder he was such a good neighbor.

In teen years, my dermatologist had a rather large fish tank. This one made the pediatrician's fish tank look like child's play. And, thinking about it now, made dermatology seem like an obviously lucrative choice for medical specialty. She had tropical fish. Not only was the tank bigger, but the fish in it were bigger. And exotic colors and shapes and sizes. Electric yellow and luminescent blue fishes would make their black eyes unmoving and stop their swimming all together, hoping that I wouldn't see them there if I were a predator. Well, the cruel joke was that they were on display and trapped. Yes, yes I could see them. But I guess they had the upper hand in not having out of control acne. The other fish probably weren't making fun of their awkward teenage years. And, safely exotically out of reach to human hands, they were not in danger of being caught, even as they were definitely being seen.

I don't know why it's fascinating and spellbinding to watch water creatures move. I even like lobster tanks. Though I guess because maybe I've never chosen one to eat? I dunno. Just neat to watch the underwater world.

I should probably look into scuba diving, huh. Snorkeling at least.
Or, barring that, go to a doctor's office.