Saturday, December 22, 2012

Bigfoot, Vicodin, and the Beauty of the World


Yesterday, my Dad and I went Bigfoot hunting. Washington has, by far, the largest population of Bigfeet, with over 500 sightings listed in the BFRO website (Oregon and Florida have the second biggest population at 232 sightings), some within driving distance of my parent's home (66 sightings in Pierce County, according to the BFRO [that's Bigfoot Field Researchers Organization]). A recent sighting (Class A Sighting, says BFRO!) was right in Spanaway, towards the Joint-base Lewis-McChord. We followed the road where the eyewitness, on his way home from the Spanaway Walmart, claims to have seen the Bigfoot stride across, under the blanket of night.


Vicodin is one hell of a drug. I'm not sure of the appeal, unless you like feeling submerged underwater. When you take Vicodin it is said that you should not operate heavy machinery or drive a car. You should not drink alcohol. Your thinking and actions may be impaired as well. There is nothing listed that says you should not hunt Bigfoot while on Vicodin. Yet.


Examine this tree. This tree has been pulled from its roots and downed right here. A great violence has been committed against this tree and it now lies in the middle of this road, its corpse a danger for oncoming vehicles. Picture this: Bigfoot, alone in the cold, damp night. He sees your cars driving through his home. They are loud and mean. Bigfoot likes quiet and your engines scare away the deer. Bigfoot hates you. He imagines your head when he amputates and murders the tree from the earth. He hopes for collision when he leaves the tree on the road. He is a bitter relic.


When a tooth is threatened with cavity or decay, a root canal is an option weighed against extraction. I choose the root canal because the nurse said it would be less painful (she lied). If you don't know what a root canal is, just know this: the dentist will break open your tooth, or whatever is left of it, remove the infected pulp tissue, and then, very deliberately, he/she will drill away the nerve in your tooth. Then he/she will file away at the root canals (there are four), getting rid of any infection, and then he/she will fill up the openings. A crown will then cover the tooth, to protect it from future damage. The root canal is a removal of blood and nerves from your tooth. Do you understand? To save the tooth you must, essentially, kill the tooth.


I've been watching "Finding Bigfoot" while recovering. This show follows four researchers trying to find proof of the existence of Sasquatch. There's Matt Moneymaker, Cliff Barackman, James "Bobo" Fay, and, my favorite, the skeptic, Ranae Holland. Ranae is much needed on this show to damper the enthusiasm of these three men, who, on the very flimsiest of cases, will proclaim, "It has to be a 'Squatch." No one on the show really likes Ranae. She's the one that says, "It was probably a bear." She's the one that has to tell the eyewitness that she doesn't believe that they saw what they think they saw. She's a buzzkill. She's the murderer of dreams. She's the one they send out to tell little kids that Santa doesn't exist. Ranae Holland is fucking awesome.


I just graduated from my MFA program. In a terrible economy, especially for people my age, I have a degree that holds little in monetary rewards. I have so much incoming debt that it's funny. Except I'm not laughing, I'm terrified. I'm in the forest with my Dad. Drugged on Vicodin. His tiny Papillon is barking ferociously. We're searching for Bigfoot. Searching for a sign. There's a zombie tooth in my mouth. And then there's this:


And this:


Tell me the world isn't beautiful.