Last updated 2010/11/26
Next update scheduled for 1937/05/06.
I was sitting in the yard one evening last summer when I heard this odd humming sound. I looked around, and there was this object settling slowly into the grass about fifty feet away. It looked like a slightly oversized white football. I’m sure the sensible reaction to something like that would be to back away. But, I had just opened my second bottle of wine, so caution wasn’t even the third thing that occurred to me. I headed right over to look. As I got closer, I noticed what looked like a door opening in the side. Sure enough, it was a door, and out came two small creatures. They looked very much like humans, but they were only about an inch tall. I didn’t actually measure them, I figured that would be rude and I didn’t want to make them mad. They were small, but they looked like they worked out a lot, and there were two of them. But I think one inch is a pretty good guess. They were making odd, slow chirping sounds. Imagine crickets at a Pink Floyd concert. First one would make a sound and then the other. This went on for maybe a minute, then one of them went back inside the football and came out with a little box. They made these chirping sounds into the box, and out came … English! Turns out they were a married couple from Venus, Bud and Gladys. I didn’t catch the last name. They were having engine problems, and my yard was the closest safe landing spot they could find. It’s easier to land one of those ships in tall grass, and as luck would have it I was a little behind on the yardwork. Their football ship is powered entirely by electricity, and most of the time they run off direct solar power. But, when they get in the shadows of a planet they have to run on fuel cells. Their fuel cells had just died. They wanted to know if I had any. My first thought was, yeah, right, I’m sure that I have replacement fuel cells for Venusian spacecraft lying around the house somewhere. Well, it turns out that I did. They drew me a couple of little diagrams and described these things, they were talking about D cell batteries. How that came to be is a really long story that I’ll tell you some other time. I went into the house to see if I had any D cells, and I had a couple in the refrigerator. Bud and Gladys were thrilled. So, they got their tools out and started to open up the battery compartment.
I figured that as long as they were going to be around for a little while, I’d offer them some wine. They gladly accepted, and they had some very nice-looking wine glasses handy. Wine is apparently big on Venus. And we got to talking. Bud got pretty chatty after a couple of glasses, and I was astonished at what he could pack away. This tiny little guy must have finished off a whole bottle all by himself. It seemed physically impossible, but I sat there and watched it with my own eyes. Anyhow, it took about a half hour to open the battery compartment. I had to lend them one of my tiny eyeglass screwdrivers, theirs was pretty dull. I think Bud had been using it to open paint cans. We popped open the lid, and … hmm … they were packing Duracells, and I had Energizers. I shudder to think what Venusian television must be like, it sounds like they’re swamped with advertisements. Okay, the three-dimensional stuff does sound cool, I have to admit, and Bud told me about this one hilarious Viagra commercial that I really can’t repeat here. But for the most part, commercials for car insurance in 3-D are still commercials for car insurance. They kept going on and on about the Energizer bunny, how they didn’t trust him, but I assured them that these were some pretty good batteries and they had nothing to worry about. Eventually, they got over their reluctance, and we popped in the new D cells and replaced the cover. Bud was a little over his limit by this point, so Gladys got in behind the wheel and fired up the engine. It turned over the first time, and they were back in business. It was getting late by then, I had to be getting to bed and they still had a lot of space they wanted to cover, so we said our goodbyes and off they went.
I got a second visit from Bud and Gladys a few months later, the day before Thanksgiving. It was great to catch up, I think, even though not all of it was good news. They had been around on the dark side of the moon shortly after their summer visit, and ran out of power again! I guess that they were right to be wary of the batteries I gave them, Duracells really do work a lot better than Energizers in Venusian spacecraft. How was I supposed to know that? Typically Duracells last for 10-12 Earth years, but they’ll burn through an Energizer in about 15 minutes. They call it “Burning the Bunny”. I’ve since seen diagrams that explain why this happens, but most of them are pretty hard to read. I’m starting to understand the Venusian chirping, but their written stuff is really hard to get through. Predictably, there are almost no D cells on the dark side of the moon, and they were stranded for a couple of weeks. They were not too happy about that. Their daughter wound up calling the cops when she hadn’t heard from them for a couple of days, and there were search and rescue teams dispatched all over the solar system. It took awhile to find them because the electronic trackers that they use aren’t very efficient. The hardware is fine, but they run on a modified version of Vista and have to be re-booted two or three times a day. They’re looking into a Linux option.
By the time of their Thanksgiving visit they had pretty much gotten over all the stress and worry from being stranded on the moon. They were even laughing about some parts of it, and they did say that all was forgiven, although they did vaporize my car. Now that I think back, though, that might have been an accident. Bud was drinking beer instead of wine, and he doesn’t handle his beer well at all. The carbonation in beer reacts with Venusian body chemistry in some explosive ways, and it’s possible that the poor car just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. Gladys had Bud put on his “beer pants” afterwards, and things were pretty well contained after that. I didn’t have any turkey or stuffing for them, but I did have a pumpkin pie that I thought we could share. Pumpkin pies look a lot like Venusian swimming pools, and Bud and Gladys dove right in. They had a great time, and rather than spoil the moment I acted like everything was normal. I went visiting friends the next day, but I left the pie behind. No matter how I tried to clean it up, the spots where Bud did his “cannonball” were still pretty obvious.
They showed up again on Super Bowl Sunday. This time they brought their little pet with them. I’m not sure exactly what to call it, there is no equivalent word for it in English, but it sounded like they were saying “umma gumma”. So, I guess it either was an umma gumma, or its name was Umma Gumma. Hard to tell. It looked like a furry orange slug, almost as big as they are. It was trained to do tricks, at least that’s what they called them. I guess I just don’t appreciate Venusian pet tricks as much as they do. Most of them involved squirting surprising volumes of disgusting substances from an alarming variety of openings onto a depressing number of pieces of furniture. After about an hour of this I was out of patience, paper towels, and carpet cleaner, and I promised that I would catch the rest of their act on YouTube if they would please stop. Sadly, most of their YouTube postings were deemed offensive and removed. The only things still out there are a few short porn videos, but Venusian porn isn’t quite what you’d expect. To be honest, it looks like nothing is happening. I had plans to watch the Super Bowl with some friends. I asked Bud and Gladys if they wanted to tag along, even though I had a feeling that the introductions might be a little awkward. They said that they’d be happy to go, and if I felt that my friends weren’t ready for interplanetary communication they’d be happy to just observe. You can imagine what a relief that was.
Things went well early on. I left my Seahawks hat by the front door, and my Venusian friends hung out under that and watched. It was a low-key party, a dozen people just hanging out, sipping on beers and munching chips and dip. The game was pretty good. At halftime it looked a little lopsided, the Steelers were leading the Cardinals 17-7, but it was still fun. Springsteen at halftime was pretty good, even if it was way too short. Then, the furry slug got loose. You’d be surprised how fast they move, and of course we’re trying to catch it without attracting attention. It was messy. I almost caught it once, and Bud was close at least twice. But then, one of the guys accidentally sat on it. Hard to believe, really, considering how quickly it could react. The good news is that when it was squished, it just looked like some slob spilled salsa on the sofa. That, oddly enough, made me the prime suspect, but it was easier than explaining space aliens. The bad news … Bud was furious. And Gladys, well … I think I saw Gladys over by the keg at one point. I know that at least one of them was over there. My friends still have no idea what happened to their couch. I’m not sure that they bought the story of the two bigs guys and a pickup, but I’m sticking with it.
The last time I saw Bud and Gladys was Groundhog Day. There are some really fun traditions surrounding Groundhog Day on Venus, even though they have no native groundhogs. All of theirs are either imported from Earth (they’re the really expensive ones) or bred in captivity. The first import years ago was something of a disaster. They had a big ceremony planned, and thousands in attendance. The transport ship landed perfectly in the designated spot, the bay doors opened to wild chirping and clapping, and as soon as that groundhog hit the atmosphere he burst into flames. I’ve seen video, it’s eerily reminiscent of the Hindenberg. Creatures from Venus adapt more easily to Earth atmosphere than the other way around, I guess. As advanced as their science is, a lot of it still seems to be trial, and error. They do love their groundhogs, though. They’ve learned to keep them in sealed tanks, like we have fish tanks, but with oxygen instead of water. A groundhog is about 25 times the height of your average Venusian, so keeping one as a pet is a pretty serious commitment. It would be like a human keeping a whale in the swimming pool. I’m not doing that even when I hit the lottery. But, they have a lot of them. Even Bud and Gladys have three. I can’t wait for their next visit, they’re coming back for the Perseid meteor showers in August. They promised they’d let me ride one. You don’t actually ride on the meteor, it’s more like water-skiing. You’re attached to the meteor by a tow line and surf behind it. It sounds like a LOT of fun. I really can’t wait. Considering what happened with that first groundhog, though, maybe this isn’t such a good idea. There are times when I think that they still haven’t gotten over that little Energizer incident.
Well, speaking of lotteries, it turns out that Bud and Gladys already had won the lottery. The first prize was permission to interact directly with an earth species for 6 months. Bud and Gladys were thrilled to be in the running, but apparently they lost in the semifinals. Humans were the consolation prize, and my name was drawn at random. I protested being classified as a consolation prize, but it didn’t get me anywhere. It was hard to argue with their reasoning. Now that the prize period is over, Bud and Gladys will go back to their original earth form, which is impossible to distinguish from a goldfinch. I feel a little cheated in some ways, I wish I’d had more time to learn about them. I had no idea that this was going to be a short-term deal. But I’m still looking forward to their visit for the Perseids, I hope they can still do that. And jeez, I feel like a Thanksgiving dip in the pie is practically a tradition already.
Pre-dated or post-dated entry. Or, whatever else you want to call it. You’re probably wondering how I wrote this in the future? I’ve been time-traveling with my friends Cliff and Dorothy from Mars. I guess the time really did run out for Bud and Gladys. They missed the Perseids. I got a note that they planned to visit on Labor Day and they missed that. The Hyperbaric Chamber Music Festival? No-shows. They promised me a Halloween, which I missed last year, but I never heard anything. Imagine a Venusian Halloween? I’m not sure that I can, but it almost has to be fun. And so here it is another Thanksgiving. I probably should have passed on the pumpkin pie this year, but they enjoyed it so much the first time I felt I had to have one. Even if they never did show up. And they never did show up. It’s kinda sad. Every once in awhile, though, I’ll be sitting out in the yard sipping on a beer. And every now and then a goldfinch will stop, and perch on the edge of the bottle. They’re not fooling me. Gladys has that receding hairline and Bud always was a little pudgy, I can still recognize them. So, I’ll tip the bottle to one side to let them have a sip. I haven’t seen any cats sitting under my bird feeders for a long, long time.