Who doesn’t like a good walrus? I mean, what is there not to like?
But me, I sort of have a soft spot for the walrus. A special place for them. When I was born, I looked like a cross between Tweety Bird and a walrus. As time wore on, I took on more of the characteristics of the latter. The walrus baby.
I think for a brief period, my parents may have considered giving me to a Traveling Side Show at the Circus. “Ladies, and Gents, step right up and see the Amazing Human-Walrus Baby! Is it Man or Beast?”
What a life that would have been. I bet I could have had all the sardines and saltines I wanted. The kind in the hot sauce. But no. They didn’t trade me in for Wolf-Kid or anything like that.
I was simply the walrus baby around our house until I turned three, or so. And then I growth-spurted right out of it. And a good thing, it was. I was beginning to have an unrealistic fear of Orca Whales and Polar Bears. But that is how it went.
Then, one day, I pulled out one of my siblings’ Beatle’s Album. It was the Magical Mystery Tour album. I was enjoying some of my favorite Beatle’s tunes, like, “Fool on the Hill,” and “Baby, You’re a Rich Man,” when I heard it.
I am the egg man, they are the egg men
I am the walrus, goo goo g’joob
There it was. Like my entire life journey and destiny, was laid out there, plain for all to see. The egg man. The walrus. Goo Goo G’joob.
I was only three-years-old when the album was released. So by the time I got to Kindergarten, it was causing quite a stir. When ever I was called on, to answer ANY question, I would simply reply, “Goo Goo G’joob.”
They began testing on me, to determine if I was quite right, or not. As it turned out, most of the tests came back okay. Most. But because of this propensity for continually repeating Goo, Goo, G’joob, my ever-money-conscious-parents landed me a gig with the Goo-Gone Cleaning Company. As a spokes-girl for their commercials. Yes, I can proudly say I was the “Face of Goo-Gone” — akin to the Gerber Baby — but not quite as glam. I was sort of the “B-Side” of a 45. Alas.
But then, then, I started getting paranoid about being the Face of Goo-Gone. And wondering if they were actually going to put it on my face, to prove a point, since I wasn’t as cute as the Gosh-DANG-Gerber-Baby. You might imagine the anxiety this created in a 4-year-old. So yeah, I was in therapy until I was eight.
Dr. Schlepmeyer. No surprise. He found I had that unreasonable fear of Polar Bears. This was only a problem at Christmas time, when we would go to see “Santa Clause” at the department stores. I would see one — just one — Polar Bear, and I would run out of the place screaming.
So. Uhnnnnn. I got a little
For a little minute.
Well. It just goes to show you. We are each, our own.
And me? I could have been any Beatles’ Song, but I got the walrus.
They love to swim. I love to swim.
They have 450 whiskers and teeth that keep growing. I have 450 whiskers, and teeth that keep growing.
They can hold their breath for very long times. I keep holding my breath, every day. In hopes of calmer waters.
I may be the Walrus, but we all have our own Beatles Song.
All You Need is Love.
Goo, goo, g’joob.
“And when the brokenhearted people
Living in the world agree
There will be an answer, let it be.”
— The Beatles
“There’s nothing you can do that can’t be done
Nothing you can sing that can’t be sung
Nothing you can say, but you can learn how to play the game
— The Beatles
“Imagine all the people living life in peace.”
— The Beatles