Showering with the Chimps
Sleeping with the fishes is bad enough, but true horror is experienced when you’re
Showering with the Chimps ---- Francis Ford Coppola
I never planned to shower with the chimps. It just happened. As they often do, one thing led to another. The dots, which seemed so separate at first, connected themselves, forming patterns, like constellations for the ancient Greeks. I mean, you have to admit some constellations do take a bit of imagination. The star dots could have been connected in so many other ways. Then they wouldn’t have made sense, particularly to the Greeks. You might easily imagine then that the dots don’t always get connected quite properly. At least that’s my experience. Then, what would you come up with? I came up showering with the chimps. At the time it was all quite logical, in a pretzel-logic kind of way.
I’m takin’ a shower the other day. You know the drill. We’ve all done it. First all soaped up, then all rinsed off. Then I grabbed the shampoo. It was some kind of pink stuff my daughter had bought. I read the label, not because I’m an avid reader,( which I am) but because I want to be sure it’s not the conditioner, as that’s for later. “Shampoo” it says. “Volumizing Pomegranate Sorbet” it says. “Sorbet?” I’m thinking, “Isn’t that something to eat?” (I’m not up much on sorbet) But now I’m clean and confident, so not to worry. I squeeze some out and foam up my head. It foams up good. Then rinse, one more foamin’, then rinse again. Then comes the conditioner. “Volumizing,” it says. “Pineapple-banana-strawberry,” it says. On it goes and now I have to let it sit. “Let it sit for three minutes, “it says. But then, since I’m already clean and got nothin’ to do, I start to think. The first dot had appeared.
Ever had a smell elicit a memory? You know you have. “You know,” my mind says,” it smells like you could eat this stuff.” I agree. It does smell good and fruity. “It smells like you got fruit in your hair,” my mind says. It sure does. The smell-thought jumped, and the next dot appeared.
It jumped to Carmen Miranda. Remember her? She’s was the Brazilian Bombshell with the fruit on her head. She sang, danced, did musical numbers. You know, “Boom-chicky-boom-chic.” Then it jumped from fruit to fruit lovers. Another dot.
It jumped to Dian Fossey and her gorilla friends. Vegetarians all, they love their fruit. (who doesn’t) You could probably be good friends with a gorilla if you had a large enough fruit stash. Then it jumped from gorilla to chimpanzees, which wasn’t much of a jump, you’ll have to admit. Another dot.
Chimpanzees they love fruit too. And they have powerful arms. They say a full grown chimp can grab you and pull you close no matter how hard you try to resist. The strongest man can’t pull away. And this is chimps. What about gorillas? If a chimp can have his way with you, then gorillas can definitely have their way with you. You wouldn’t stand a chance. No contest. That’s life in the jungle. Yet another dot.
It jumped from the African jungle to Jungle Vietnam, but still about smells and them that smells them. They say that the Vietcong could smell Americans from a long way off because we smoked American cigarettes and ate American food. So, if a Vietcong could smell me from 100 yards, then a gorilla or chimp, all attuned to his environment and all, could smell me even further. They smell so much better than humans. (their noses that is)
My three minutes were up. But as I was rinsing, my brain, all relaxed and water-soaked by now, began to connect the dots. Remember when you were little, and you tried to connect the dots, but you didn’t know or pay attention to the numbers? You just connected them any old way? Well, that’s what my brain did in the shower. The resulting picture wasn’t pretty. In fact it scared me. I connected the dots a little screwy. But I’ll show you the picture anyway.
Say, on vacation I go to Deepest Darkest Africa. I got bucks to spend so I hire a safari to see the chimps and gorillas. They’re cool. We all like chimps and gorillas. It’s hot and sweaty so I’m hot and sweaty. So what do I do? I take a shower and I shampoo. First it’s scented soap. Coconut. Then the shampoo,” Pomegranate Sorbet.” Then the conditioner, “Pineapple-Banana-Strawberry.” Fine. Now, without knowing it, I’m walkin’ down the jungle trail, a regular Carmen Miranda. I might as well be walkin’ with a pile of fruit salad on my head, singing, “Boom-Chicky-Boom,” because the apes can smell me a mile away. So what do they do? What do they need to do? Nothin’. All they need to do is sit and wait. They’re good at that.
They got curiosity, upper body strength, and they got stealth. So what I’m sayin’ is,…they got me. One grab and it’s over. I feel helpless. As helpless as Fay Wray in King Kong’s black hairy palm. I got a gorilla’s nose in my hair. He’s either lickin’ my scalp, or stickin’ his gorilla finger on it and putting it in his gorilla nose. You know how they are. Either way I don’t like it. I know he’s not going to eat me being a vegetarian an all, but still, it’s “The Horror.” Somehow it turns into just me, the jungle and Kurtz. It’s Conrad. It’s Heart of Darkness. It’s “The Horror.” You understand I’ll do anything to escape, and anything is what I do. It’s a desperate move but I make it. Dripping, like from a cold sweat, I quick reach down and give the knob a twist. Then I step from the shower. No more showering with the chimps for me.
So that’s what happens. One thing leads to another and before you know it you’re somewhere you never planned to be at the start. Sometimes of course you start off solid, stepping on smooth white stones so to speak, all according to plan. But sometimes, when you slip, and fall into that cold stream of consciousness, you’re simply swept away. I’ve been trying to change my shampoo, looking for one that’s unscented, but they’re hard to find, if they exist at all. If that doesn’t work then maybe I’ll change to baths. I don’t know if that’ll work either but I’m willing to give it a try.
Last edited by Steven Hunley; 09-06-2009 at 12:35 PM. Reason: need dash between title and Francis Ford Coppola