There are a lot of things that are terrible about 2020, and if I try to think about all of them at once, or even to pick an important one to write about, my head will explode. So today I am picking the least important one: Mosquitoes.
Mosquitoes have always loved me. I’m just one of those people. If the mosquitoes realize that I am around, they go for me.
Did you know that mosquitoes are flies? They are. They’re in the order Diptera, along with house flies, fruit flies, hoverflies, and [shudder] botflies. Somewhere along the evolutionary timeline, mosquitoes elongated their mouthparts for the purpose of being jerks.
You know how mosquitoes make you itch? They slobber into you. That’s also how they give you diseases. They’re the worst.
Why so many mosquitoes this year? Because the only place where it’s safe to socialize, even a little bit, is outdoors.
I love being outdoors. The outdoors is great. But, at this time of year, the outdoors has a lot of mosquitoes.
For example: On August 20, I went for a walk after work and stopped to say hello to a friend and his baby, neither of whom I had seen since before the pandemic. Stopping is where I went wrong, of course. Mosquitoes love a sitting duck. After about three minutes of chatting, I caught a mosquito in the act and declared that it had been nice to see the friend, but it was time to move on. When I got home, I counted nine mosquito bites. Nine! I was outraged. I sent a lot of outraged texts to friends. (Outraged texts: The indoor way to socialize.)
I’ve been bitten while chatting (distantly) on a friend’s front porch. I’ve been bitten on a lawn while I was singing, masked and very distanced. I killed a mosquito with a full stomach (ugh) on my hand during another masked, distanced lawn sing, and decided that meant the next song could wait until I had grabbed the bug repellent from the car.
Yeah, I do realize DEET exists. Sometimes, I even put it on. First, though, I like to confirm that the local mosquitoes have a taste for Helen flesh. That is the only explanation I can think of for my failure to ever use the DEET before the bugs start biting.
On Sunday a mosquito bit me inside the car on the way to a hike. One determined mosquito this summer found its way through multiple doors and up multiple flights of stairs into my apartment.
I can’t count the number of mosquito bites on my arms and legs. They mostly stay away from my head and neck, so, thanks, I guess. That’s how you know D.C. area mosquitoes are bush league, not serious mosquitoes like the ones in the Arctic, or that one in Kathmandu that nailed me right in the middle of my forehead.
So how’s my pandemic going? Fine. I have leisure time to be outside with my friends, swatting at bugs. I don’t seem to have caught any mosquito-borne (or human-borne) illnesses. But boy do I wish the little bastards would leave me alone.
Photo: CDC/James Gathany
I think there’s a market for DEET-filled necklace urns. Something cute but filled with a dram of repellent, perhaps with a micro-sprayer, too. You could pretend it’s perfume. Then you could be prepared for the jerks even if you left home in a hurry.
Colin Purrington is THIS Colin PUrrington, a giant among spricket-killing evolutionary biologists: https://www.lastwordonnothing.com/2016/03/14/kill-the-sprickets-kill-them-all/ I for one am honored by his attention to DEET-filled necklace urns, a splendid if somewhat Victorian solution.
I LOVE the idea of little perfume pendants filled with DEET. I would 100% wear that. Please invent one, Colin, and make it easy to refill.
I’m a mozzie magnet but allergic to DEET. I did a little watering in the garden yesterday and now have bites on my chin and forehead, and one on the outer edge of each ear. The mozzie was a fan of symmetry, I guess. Can the pendants come with DEET-free alternatives, please?