Honestly, it was enough to make me question just how good Google really is. My image search for “bunnies birds fish” brought up page after page after page…of pictures of dogs. It’s hard for me to believe that the supposedly oh so brilliant search engine can not distinguish between these common animal types. It tends to make me question the veracity of results where it is not so obvious that a mistake was made. (For instance could you offhand distinguish a picture of Grover Cleveland from one of, say, John Flammang Schrank? Are you sure?) I sometimes worry that we are becoming a world where most people believe anything that Google tells them, the actual facts be damned.
The word bunny inevitably makes me think of Easter. I find myself remembering trips with my mother– travelling from New Orleans to Birmingham by plane to visit her relatives in Pinson, Alabama– where she was born and raised. In those days the plane made two stops en route and I remember how amazing it felt to take off and land again and again. I remember how mom always brought along a case of Russel Stover Gold Brick eggs. I can almost taste those chocolate pecan confections as I type this.
These days when I think of birds, it is my friend Wayne Hurlbert who first comes to mind. Wayne frequently posts to Facebook wonderful pictures of different birds, always identified correctly. I find I quite enjoy learning just a bit about various birds from looking at those pictures. Fish, by contrast, bring up two distinctly different memories for me. As food, fish have always been an important part of my diet. Somehow I remember my father, dabbing catfish fillets with yellow mustard and sauce piquant before rolling them in corn meal and frying them up crisp. Again, I can almost taste this dish as I type out the words. The other fish memory I associate with my late father has to do with the aquarium kind of fish. When I was thirteen years old, my parents gave me an aquarium for my birthday. My dad really got into keeping fish and over the course of a year or two we ended up with several dozen fish tanks– scattered throughout the house and especially in the garage where daddy constructed a huge case that held about ten very large tanks. I remember my mother grousing one Friday evening when my father was feeding raw shrimp to his oscars while we were dining on cheap ground meat. It really is odd, the things that you remember and the memories that different words call to mind.
And finally today, my thanks to Catherine Donnelly who suggested today’s three words. And an aside to Catherine– you might change your blog to allow folks to comment without authenticating an ID. I tried to leave a comment but it wouldn’t let me sign in with WordPress and I got frustrated and wandered away.