By DARREN HANDSCHUH
Spring is upon us and that means one thing – testosterone will be flowing like cheap wine at a frat party.
It’s universal throughout the animal kingdom.
In the springtime, rams butt heads, peacocks pump up their plumage and young men show off for young ladies – actually they just show off more than usual for young ladies – and all form of animal throughout the land start to strut their stuff.
In other words, spring is like Viagra for the animal kingdom.
Evidence of this can be found even in urban settings. The trees are blooming, the birds are returning to their nests and the frogs living in the creek near my home begin their nightly chorus of ribbet-ribbet.
It may not sound exactly like that, but I do not know how to spell the sound they actually make, so the cliche ‘ribbet’ will have to do.
Anyway, through absolutely no scientific measures whatsoever, I have determined what those frogs are saying. It’s a gift, kind of a Dr. Doolittle thing.
In frog language it is ribbet-ribbet, but if that were translated into English, it would mean ‘Hey baby, how you doin’? Those are some sexy warts. Want to check out my pad?’
OK, I’m sorry for that last one, but I couldn’t resist.
The croaking critter’s chorus of communication continues for some time, but slowly quiets down as spring progresses and the amphibians pair off for a summer of weird, frog love.
But there is always a few mournful ‘ribbets’ left as summer arrives. They are heard echoing through the silence of the night and I can only assume these are the nerd frogs.
The geeks of the frog world as it were.
They are the shy frogs who are socially challenged and are never sure just what to say when a web-toed honey splashes by.
Time drags on and they are left to spend yet another summer without a little female frog friend with which to frolic.
It is a pitiful sound that goes from ‘Hey baby, how you doin’?’ to ‘OK ladies one last chance, all this can be yours’ to ‘Awe, c’mon please. Look, I have flies, lots and lots of flies.’
Eventually even those frogs quit croaking and have either found a nerd lady frog, or submitted to the fact it will be another season of spending lots of time in the coldest part of the pond.
These frogs will get together a couple times a week, slam back a few water beetles and tell each other the lady frogs are the ones missing out.
They would then go home alone and imagine they were crocodiles or something and could dispose of all the other guy frogs and have the ladies to themselves.
Not that I’ve ever felt that way. I’m talking about frogs here.
I’m shocked anyone would think I am substituting my own feelings from a sad and pathetic youth onto a frog just so I could write them down in an attempt to deal with deep-rooted issues that have been haunting me most of my life, um, anyway, about those frogs…
If there are nerd humans (and I am not mentioning anyone specifically here), there is a chance there are nerd frogs, or nerd anything for that matter.
Maybe there is a nerd wildebeest out there that is just too geeky or shy to get a lady wildebeest and spends most of his time wandering the woods telling himself he is better off alone.
Maybe his horns are too small, who knows.
Human nerds at least have a chance at changing their stars and sometimes become computer experts, which can lead to a career with the potential to make a boatload of cash, and as everyone knows, cash is the antidote for nerdism.
But wildebeests and frogs don’t need cash, so maybe animal nerds are just out of luck.
What I am saying is, I am glad I am not a nerd frog, or a nerd wildebeest.
If you have to be a nerd, geek or dork, it is best to be a human nerd, geek or dork because at least we have Dr. Phil to make things all better.
We also have beer, but that is another issue altogether.