About A Bug

Just you and me buddy...

Where do they come from, those creatures known as stink bugs, with their tentacles and lemony smell? I’d search the internet for info, but I’m too afraid of the photos.

I’ve always been creeped out by bugs. Maybe it was growing up the only girl in a houseful of boys—someone had to be relied on to let out a high-pitched scream at the sight of a spider and that someone turned out to be me.

I remember a mean kid in my third grade class putting a scary insect inside a schoolbook and passing it to me, just so everyone could laugh when I let out a shriek and jumped up on a chair at the unexpected sight. I didn’t want to be that girly type of girl but it’s a visceral reaction like gagging on certain food textures — my daughter is the same.

There’s the hours I spent vigilant in NYC apartments after spotting a water bug headed towards a stack of boxes or pile of books—it had to come out sometime didn’t it? I would be waiting with a broom to smash it and be sure to let out a banzai yell til I knew it was dead.

Touring led to the realization in New Orleans or Austin that the ones down south were even bigger, and that they fly. I left a free, cute apartment in the middle of the night, preferring to sleep in my car, when it turned out I had to share a room with— a couple of palmetto bugs.

Changing hotel rooms twice in one night in St. Louis when water bugs appeared. The massive spider staring me down from smack in the middle of the bathroom mirror in Guatemala, night after night.

So these local stink bugs are pretty benign on the spectrum of insects. When wintertime comes to our house in upstate New York, they start appearing. Maybe they come in to get warm? When we first moved here, they looked almost like overweight sunflower seeds, but over a dozen years, they’ve permuted into something creepier, larger, with browner shells and more tentacles.

And a strange thing’s been happening lately. Maybe it’s cause we’ve been away a lot, Eric on tour in the UK and Europe, me here and there playing gigs and visiting my daughter. Each time I come home from a trip, when I’m cozied in bed at night, no matter that I wash the bedding, dust the nightstands, vacuum, sweep and clean the bedroom, when I’m completely relaxed either watching something on my computer or on the verge of falling asleep - I realize I have company.

One night it was like that old Mystery Science Theater 3000, where those silhouettes lodge in front of the screen - only this time it was a few tentacles, stuck up at the foot of my computer - I flicked on the light and he was there (why is it always he? I don’t know but it is!) as if he was watching an episode of Happy Valley with me. Yes I know I know, we’ve all got a crush on Sarah Lancashire, why should a stink bug be any different? But it was jarring. He calmly waited while I crushed him in a tissue— “Sorry buddy but you have to go” I said.

When I turn on the desk lamp, one jumps out and lands on the keyboard. I find another calmly waiting on a guitar cable. Are they pests…or helpers?

Next time I came back from traveling, I went to turn out the light next to the bed and there was another one, nestled on my shoulder. “God damn it buddy!” I shouted. He waited patiently til I executed him, and I felt almost sad. The lemony smell made me nostalgic in advance for that sense memory I long to be free of but that will forever conjure visions of Catskill.

It doesn’t matter how vigilant I am, they’re finding their way in. I expect there’ll be another visitation tonight, cause I’m leaving tomorrow. It occurs to me they know we’re inevitably on our way out of this house and maybe they’re just sending a message “We love you. We wish we’d gotten to know each other better. But- we understand if you go. Just, while you’re here, let us hang out with you a little while longer. It’s been real, knowing you. And sure, mostly we just want to get warm, but we really did enjoy having you here. Hope you won’t forget us. Y’all come back and see us sometime, y’hear?”

The old homestead…where all the bugs hang out.