The Duality of Man

Last night, the guy standing behind me in line at Dairy Queen must have thought I was totally insane. Standing alone, and for no visible reason, I just started laughing hysterically. A mayfly had landed next to me at the order window.

Here's what he didn't know:

When our oldest daughter was about two years old, my wife brought her to the office after a doctor's appointment. It so happened that this was the week when the mayflies were swarming.

I don't know how local this is to Erie, but for about a week every summer here, hordes of mayflies cover entire building surfaces near the lakeshore. They flock to every bright window and lightbulb after dark, molt, mate and disappear to wherever it is that they go for the other 51 weeks of the year.

Anyway, it was mayfly week. When my daughter got out of the car, she noticed one on the sidewalk. "Mommy, look," she said, bending down and stroking the mayfly's wings with one pudgy little finger, "it's so cute."

Then she stood up and promptly squashed it flat with her sandal.

This is what's known as The Duality of Man.