Recipe for a Good Story

Originally published in the Summer 2022, Azalea Magazine. “Get a group of wildlife biologists together for one night and you’ll hear enough stories to write a book,” counseled a retired DNR biologist. “You want to hear the one about the bear or the alligator?” And off we went… It was about 8 am on a Sunday morning. (Story element #1: good stories take place at night or on the weekends.) My friend was whipping up a batch of scrambled eggs. (Story element #2 - an element of personal sacrifice, discomfort or inconvenience.)  The phone rang and the dispatcher advised that a motorist reported an alligator on the Coosahatchie River Bridge. Highway 17 was in the process of being widened and the reptile occupied the segment not yet opened.  Its head was bent at an angle at the edge, its body stretching across the lane, with the tail whipping to and fro on the centerline.  Surely it must be injured, so he knocked down the eggs in two bites and headed out to investigate.

Upon arrival he finds one construction worker. (Story element #3: white lies. Who has ever seen ONE construction worker on a road job?) The worker advises that no, he's not seen an alligator. The biologist heads over the open span of bridge and circles around to head home, when he sees a large black object stretched across the road, one end whipping in the wind. Never one to shy from danger, he investigates and finds the biggest, thickest, darkest, roundest roll of weed barrier landscape fabric he’d ever seen. Satisfied that taxpayers were safe and his mission was complete, he turns to home to finish his breakfast. 

As our meal rolled into dessert and later into evening libations, one biologist riffed off the another. Made me wonder, what is it about these folks that makes them so damn funny?  The answer seems to surface when three ingredients are boiled into a burgoo of belly laughs: after hours adventures, personal sacrifice, a few lies; along with a life lived outside and a natural propensity for curiosity.  Maybe there’s nothing inherently different about biologists.  Perhaps they just spend more time outdoors and are observant while they are there. What if we all tried that? Certainly would make our holiday gatherings a bit more entertaining.