The Zoo

Yesterday's zoo pictures and comments got Plotnik thinking about the different ones he has seen. Of course, he remembers his first zoo, the old one in Griffith Park in Stiletto City whose primitive cages are still up there on the hill behind the new zoo. The old zoo smelled like dried poop, like a stable. This must be Zoo Generic Smell, because Plot smelled it at SF Zoo the other day and it gave him a smile. A little boy was walking by and he said to his mom "Ooh, somebody poo'd." Actually, everybody did.

Plot's grandfather and grandmother used to take him to the Zoo in the green '56 Buick. What he remembers most is cotton candy, huge elephants in small cages, and the plush back seat of that car.

Then there's the Bronx Zoo, not the one with the Yankees in it but the other one, where somebody played a joke on a friend who worked with Ducknik. He called and left a message for his associate to please call Mr. Lyon at such and such a number, which was the zoo's phone number. The guy called the switchboard at the zoo and asked to please speak to Mr. Lyon.

The little one in Central Park which was always a disappointment before they just gave up and started calling it a children's zoo, which is all it ever was.

The Berkeley zoo, which was the University apparently, because by the mid '60s tour buses were cruising up and down Bancroft Avenue seeking anyone with a beard or sandals. When they saw us, they'd stop the bus and people in brimmed hats would stick their heads out the side of the bus and go "oooooooh." The women would hold their hands over their wide open mouths.

Do you think that's how the monkeys feel? Or the gibbons? Or the wallabies? What ARE these people staring at? Here, have a banana.

And of course, the biggest zoo of all -- the two day safari in Kruger Park in South Africa, which was as unforgettable as the big game parks there were hideous. Why would that be? Maybe because anything about Afrikaaners, who were the people who run all those game parks, in their green shorts with pith helmets and shotguns, made us vaguely ill at ease, if not nauseous.

The Kruger safari was another order of business: magnificent in every respect. You never knew when an animal would appear out of the bush -- or could be pointed out by the sharp-eyed Botswanan guide. Plotnik will never forget the moment they spotted the black leopard with their binoculars -- the guide had seen him with his bare eyes off in the distance, somehow, but the huge cat was completely invisible to the rest of us until he twitched one jet black ear. Then he stood up and looked like a sleek Greek god.

How about the snake circuses in Bangkok, where young boys dashed in and out of cobra pits and let themselves get tied up by pythons? Can you call it a zoo if there is nothing but snakes in it?

And who gets to have a zoo? There are small towns with big zoos and big towns with small zoos. San Diego is still the best Plotnik has ever seen, with Singapore probably second.

But to tell the truth, he is not completely sure how he feels about zoos, even after all this time. As a sanctuary for animals endangered in the wild, they are surely wonderful. But as a gawking photo opp for humans? What did people do at zoos before digital cameras and I-phones?

Uncle Joe was right though: Isabella would love SF Zoo. It's just her size and they've got popcorn.