Osprey
Ultra Nomad
Posts: 3694
Registered: 5-23-2004
Location: Baja Ca. Sur
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Baja Biology
Flowers? Again?
I'm old. I am not under oath. Don't press me on this. I do not remember where, when or how I learned about hypnotizing lizards. It could have
been that one of the dirty-faced, shoeless members of my rag-tag platoon of future Florida "crackers" showed me or told me about this strange ritual.
We spent every daylight hour exploring a swampy part of Broward County near our homes and we brushed up against more than our share of lizards, newts,
"gators", turtles and snakes. I also got a chance, a time or two, to visit the tourist traps known as "Alligator Farms". At these rustic amusement
centers, along the Tamiami Trail, "Alligator Alley ", I stood, with a little less amazement than the crowds of bug-bitten yokels ooing and gasping
while some hungover, potbellied, sweaty Seminole Indian (or deranged Cubano) turned the toothy alligators on their backs, rubbed their shiny tummies
and sent them to temporary dreamland. Even then I knew that the tummy rubbing was just for show.
It is a very old trick. Reptiles that spend most of their lives horizontal have little protective bone, muscle or tissue between the part of the
brain directly behind and above the eyes, and the bony structure above.
If the animal is turned upside-down and pressure is applied to that sensitive spot, the simple and primitive portion of the brain which controls
motor nerves, the reptile is incapable of movement. Respiration continues but is slowed as in aestivation. The eyes close but it cannot be said that
"the animal is asleep"... it is simply unable to move. Obviously the trick works better with animals who spend most of their time on the ground or in
a horizontal mode. Chameleons, anoles, live in tropical plants and eat, mate and scamper about on every surface of all the parts of the plants. The
trick works least on these kinds of animals, able to walk about on the underside of things.
On a priceless, one-of-a-kind day, aboard a real yacht, slowly sightseeing the marinas around Newport Beach, California, I spotted a sleek sailing
yacht. The name of this teakwood beauty, gold-leafed across the stern was "Comfortably Numb". I could imagine two or three old gentlemen, leathery
skin and sun bleached hair, sitting comfortably on white canvas deck chairs on the afterdeck/salon/sun bridge/weather bridge (depending on the wind,
temperature and humidity that hour), cold "Boodles" in hand, watching the sun go where suns have always gone, -- down (below the yardarm); becoming
comfortably numb. The stuff retirement dreams are made of.
Retirement plopped me down on latitude 23N, right on the Tropic of Cancer in Mexico where I am very seldom numb but nearly always comfortable.
I am also surrounded by reptiles very like the ones I encountered in Florida.
Just a few days ago, jeeping near the beach with one of my Mexican pals, Luis, I spotted and captured a very large Iguana. It was curiously
different from any I had seen before. This animal was over a foot long and weighed almost two pounds. After we noted its spiny tail and fat, smooth
body I showed Luis my lizard trick.
The pressure on the brain worked its magic and the iguana's eyes closed, his breathing slowed noticeable and he lay unmoving in Luis' hands. After a
few minutes I put the lizard on the ground and we waited for it to regain its full capacities. In less than a minute he scurried off into the brush,
none the worse for the experience. Luis queried me about the lizard not being harmed by the experiment and I explained, in my best Spanglish, that,
although I had never witnessed a lizard flopping on his back to press his little head on a rock or stick for "juegos o diversi?n" as they say, I did
not think they were adversely effected in any measurable way. Now that I think about it, this Iguana got a break in what normally passes for a life
of, find a flower, eat it, poop. Do it again. (most land iguanas are herbivores)
Retirement is not all tea and crumpets. While I have captured the core of the business, returning to all the things I did when I was ten years old,
this life of leisure has a downside.
With no income, save good ole Social Security, one must watch one's pennies. The day might come when I have no more money for booze. Calls for a
little planning. For some time now I have been training myself to sleep on my stomach. The plan is devilishly simple -- over time I may lower my
brain that silly millimeter necessary for the lizard trick. Without a dram of gin in the house, just before dinner, my wife Lynda can roll me on my
back, a little pressure under the chin, my brain presses against my brain pan and I'll be "Comfortably Numb". Dreams come true. There is a God (even
for lizards). I can only hope that occasionally she will (for old time's sake) rub my tummy.
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tunaeater
Senior Nomad
Posts: 617
Registered: 9-3-2003
Location: Chula Vista, CA
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Oprey excellent write up. I forwarded a copy to my dad who used to do this trick with the lizards I used to bring home as a kid. I used to bring
home lots of lizards and he would do just a you described. We were amazed at my dads power and magic... He is now retired also and will enjoy this
writting from you....very nice thank you Paul
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