Just Like DeeYogo’s Jaguar
This past weekend we went to San Diego (pronounced San Dee Yo-Go) on the train.
We went to the San Diego Zoo, which is disputably the best zoo in the entire world. Not to be confused with The Los Angeles Zoo, which indisputably is the worst zoo in the entire world. Interesting, because both cities kind of suck donkey dicks in the peculiar way that only Southern Californian cities with nearly perennial perfect weather can — unfriendly people, crappy service, horrible food, bad hotel beds, a near perfect lack of intellectual culture.
To that degree, San Diego sucks to a greater degree than Los Angeles, in my opinion, having lived for considerable time in both places, but their zoo is far superior. They do not have a basketball team, though, and though their Nordstroms tend to be far better stocked than the ones in Los Angeles, I would much rather live up here — Hollywood trailer trash and all — if for no other reason than for a slighter degree of provincialism and the distance from John Birch Society runoff from all the military bases.
We he had some truly astonishingly good luck with animal encounters whilst at the zoo. Astonishingly good. Of course this was pretty much lost on Mini. I think the train ride was the biggest thrill, followed closely by the Sky Tram (the gondola thing that dangles you across the park).
That, and the danish that the conductor gave him on Amtrak. Because ever since the one time that Mr. Right-Click took Mini on a train ride one Saturday morning and a conductor randomly gave him a danish, Mini has decided that handing out danishes is somehow connected to the normal course of duties for a conductor. The conductor is supposed to take a ticket, punch out holes in it in the shape of your name or an inspirational word or character trait in which you are supposed to work, perform an elaborately choreographed hot chocolate dance routine, yell “All Aboard!,” and (don’t forget) hand out danishes.
On a similar note, Mini is apparently not taken aback by being in close proximity to large wild animals. Take jaguars, for instance. Because of Mini’s extensive experience with the viewing practices of Nick Jr., he thinks that baby jaguars are regularly in the habit of serving as companions to boy explorers and animal rescuers in South American rain forests.
Therefore, when Jacob, the zookeeper in charge of big cats at the San Dee Yogo Zoo brought out an adolescent jaguar, Mini informed me that this was just like DeeYogo’s baby jaguar companion, as you can hear him do on the following video, as said jaguar is being fed an amuse-bouche for our benefit, before she goes outside to decimate an already dead rabbit (mercifully not caught on film). Though, if you look carefully, I think you can see in her eye the thought that perhaps Mr. Right-Click would make a far tastier meal.
Overall, the trip was a grand success, but for that conundrum that always happens with the with-kids vacation: coming home a little bit more tired than when you left. But then, I don’t remember having this much fun at a zoo before, either. I guess last time, I was the one who didn’t quite get what was so cool about it.