Freakin' Prehistoric Dinosaur of a Turtle

Today while I was out driving through the country I saw the car ahead of me swerve wide to avoid a large black pile of something in the road. I slowed down to get a closer look and immediately pulled over. There was a freakin' prehistoric dinosaur of a turtle in the road, with a tail like a small alligator. His shell was easily 15 inches from front to back - he was easily the size of my steering wheel. The shell had points and spikes on it, but they were well-worn down. He was missing claws on his huge front paws, which were almost as big as my hands. I knew this kind HAD to be fierce - how else would you get to be so OLD in nature?

This is one of 2 photos I snapped of the prehistoric behemoth. I wish I'd looked for something like a drink can to place beside him for scale. He probably would have eaten it though.

I knew not to get too close. I was wearing Crocs on my feet for goodness sakes - they'd be like a gummy bear coating on my toes if he got ahold of them. I found a couple sticks, and held one before his massive jaws. He took the bait and took a bite. SNAP! he chomped down on the wood. (Yeah, my Crocs would have made a great snack.) I tried to drag him with the wood, but he let go. Again I brandished my stick, again he snapped (yikes!) and then he LET GO AGAIN. Slacker.

Recently we'd stopped to watch someone else help one of these beasts across a road slightly east of where I was. I wondered if this could possibly even be the same determined monster, headed west. the other guy had managed to get the beastie to chomp on a piece of wood and drag him across. If this was the same creature, he was tired of the game.

A truck approached from the other direction, and the driver rolled down his window. "Watch out," he warned, "Those things will bite!"

"Why do you think I have these?" I laughed and held up my sticks. "I'm also standing waaaaay back," I told him.

"That thing's prehistoric!" the man exclaimed, staring at the beast. He jumped out of his truck, and pulled out a magical shovel from under a tarp on the back. A really long handled shovel. Yes! He starting trying to herd the beastie across the road, and when that failed, he settled on flipping him and scooting him until he was safely in the grass off the roadside. (I wouldn't have done it that way, but then again, it wasn't my shovel.)

The internet tells me to try to tell the turtle's age I should look at the ridges on his shell. The points on this guy's shell was worn down like the sole of an old sneaker. It also tells me to examine his plastron, which is the shell on his belly. Right. "Excuse me, Mister Ancient Behemoth, could I have a look at your tummy?" Luckily when he was getting shovel-rolled across the road, I could see some of his belly. Younger turtles have darker plastrons. This guy was pretty well bleached out under there.

The internet also tells me: "If you need to move a snapping turtle quickly simply pick it up by the back edge of its carapace and carry it across the road holding its head away from you." I'm pretty sure there was no way I could lift a creature the size of my steering wheel by the back of his shell. He might slip out of it, if I could even have picked him up.

It's a good thing to help turtles across the road. The size of this guy will probably make my karmic piggy bank pop. Unless he was a real jerk of a turtle and was actually headed west because he was leaving his wife of 75 years... but then that would be his karma.

Notes: some more good info here

Rest Well, Robin. Second Star, to the Right.

Years ago when I was young, I got to stay at home alone (alone! by myself!) one evening when my parents went out. Watching one of my favorite shows, Happy Days, was the first time I'd ever been enchanted with the sparkling humor that is Robin Williams.

As one outrageous quip followed another, I laughed so hard that I cried. The worst part was seeing that genius episode alone, and then trying to explain what I'd seen to my parents when they returned home. My headfirst-into-the-couch attempts couldn't even begin to convey the hilarity. His portrayal of Mork the Alien struck deep, tickling my funny bone in a way few actors have.

After I graduated from college and left that town, I came back to visit friends and pick up some boxes of belongings I'd left behind in a friend's attic. My friend I stayed with was incredulous that I hadn't seen "Hook" yet. With a name like "Wendy" how could I have missed a Peter Pan movie? He insisted we watch it, so we rented it on VHS. I was captivated. Mr. William's portrayal of my lifelong counterpart brought new meaning to the fairy tale for me. I could grow up, and still be a kid inside. It was allowable. Now that I have my own children, the movie strikes an even deeper chord for me.

Ironically, in the movie "Hook", the character of Toodles clearly had lost his marbles - he kept looking for them. Inside one of the boxes rescued from the attic on that visit, guess what I found? The leather pouch with, yes, my marbles. These were special marbles. Some of them were antique, from my grandparent's time, carrying memories from my childhood. Some had been gathered along my journey. Along with Toodles, I'd also found my marbles. I knew I'd be okay.

In the early nineties I worked at a company that had me pack up and move to Toronto for a while. I was mostly alone, but bravely I explored a lot on my own. It was there I got to see the cartoon "Aladdin" on the big screen. At that time, getting to see an animated picture on a screen that big was pure delight, and made me feel like a child again.

The years rambled on, and I watched (and rewatched) and loved many of Mr. Williams's movies. I liked the funny ones best. I almost hated him for taking the creepy role in "One Hour Photo." I still haven't watched it. I didn't want to see my favorite comic as scary. His troubled character in Fisher King was frightening to me at first. But by the time I'd experienced enough of Life to see another man's demons for what they were, I appreciated his portrayal of the baggage we all carry.

"The Birdcage" might just be my favorite. So much willing suspension of disbelief - I mean, who expects someone's entire family to become a complete lie like that? But the way the characters weave together is endearing and comforting. That movie is one of those that pops up when I need it most. I hope it comes on again soon. I could use its comfort right about now.

When Patch Adams was being filmed in Chapel Hill NC my friend and I applied to be extras. Not getting the callback, we still drove on over to the set to see what we could see. I got to meet the real Patch Adams, and listen to him talk candidly about his philosophy of healing with humor. And I also got to meet one of my heroes, Robin Williams.

He was zipping around the set on his bicycle, and would occasionally come over to where we were listening, captivated, to Mr. Adams speaking. I finally marshalled my courage and stuck out my hand. As Robin Williams held up his bike with one hand, he awkwardly, almost shyly, took my hand. I thanked him. I told him I'd been following him since he first played Mork on Happy Days, and I thanked him for all the laughter. He was so humble. It was such a human moment.

It's so sad that someone whose gift to my life was so much laughter and comfort ended theirs in sadness. I keep reminding myself that the genius and creativity will always live in their work. I'm glad this man has left us such a treasure trove of his work. Safe travels, Robin. second star, to the right.