The Invasion

As mentioned earlier in the blog, the cicadas have made a full scale invasion into the Cincinnati area. You know, those things that live as grubs for 2 – 17 years (depending on species) and then pop out en masse for two weeks of wild sex. Well, they have mostly taken over the eastern Cincinnati area, but do appear to be spreading west.

Now, it is really hard to imagine what it’s like to experience this. It really is very Hebrew Bible-like and I now understand how people felt that locusts were a plague. So let me help you understand a little. For starters, these things are butt-ugly (see picture). I’m sure there are people out there that will find beauty in anything, but from a classical Western ideal of beauty, these thing things fall just below hideous.

Now, there are lots of things that I would prefer not to look at. Ever see a dust mite magnified a million times? A thing of nightmares. Unlike dust mites however, these cicadas are big. I mean, really big! About the size of a man’s thumb and four times bigger than the junebugs I’m used to in California. This makes them hard to miss. Add to this the fact that they make a really loud noise and you feel absolutely surrounded by them, even while they are hiding in the trees. This noise is so loud that even with all the windows rolled up, and flying down the freeway at 70 mph, and with the stereo playing, I can still hear them! I mean, these guys are obnoxious.

A big part of this obnoxiousness is the fact that they have been celibate for 5-17 years and they are OH so friendly to anything that comes near. They are like those lounge lizards from the ‘70s that will go up to anyone who stays still long enough and ask them their sign. This adds new elements to their annoyingness. For one, what attracts them the most are things that make rhythmic vibrations like cars, motorcycles, and lawn mowers. Now, what romantic aspirations they have with a lawnmower, I’ll never understand (talk about dangerous love!) but anyone mowing their yard while these guys are around get dive bombed and pelted like a ship at Pearl Harbor.

Deb, my coworker, was telling me that one year when she was mowing her lawn she had to don a scarf and hat because they kept flying into her hair and getting stuck. One of the managers on my floor who is known for his Harley Davidson macho-ness had one hitchhike in on his shoulder from outside. When it was pointed out that he had a stowaway on him, and he looked back and glanced at the amorous cicada on his shoulder, he jumped around and screamed like a school girl “get it off, get it off!!!”

As my work is placed well into the area of invasion I’ve had a few of my own stories. The cicadas line the freeway I commute home in, and I usually try to dodge them by drafting a truck or just moving my body from side to side while on my motorcycle. One time while I was on my bike one particularly large one was flying high above me and at the last minute it did a calculated dive directly onto my helmet. Parts of it got splattered across my helmet vent and I got to smell what the inside of a cicada smells like all the way home.

Another time I was with some of my coworkers driving to a lunch spot when the driver decided that since it was such a nice day it would be a good idea to open the sun roof. Big mistake. The things started dropping in like giant buzzing hailstorms. We started yelling at each other hopping around in our seats. It went something like this:

Driver: “What the hell...”

Passenger:“AGHH… GET IT OFF”

Driver: “You get it off!..AGG ONE’S ON ME!”

Me: “CLOSETHETOPCLOSETHETOPCLOSETHETOP!!”

Passenger: “THROW THEM OUT THE WINDOWS!”

Me: “DON’T OPEN THEM, YOU’LL LET MORE IN!!!”

Passenger: “AAAAAGHH!!!”

Driver: “AAAAAAAGHH!!!”

Me: “AAAAAAGHHH!!!”

I’m sure that any outside observers thought that were in the hands of a drunk driver. Now, normally I don’t have a problem handling cicadas, or any other insects, but I have to admit, I did get caught up on the hysteria that was in the car that day.

Later that day I got my revenge though.

I brought one of them home to the cats.