I believe in Bigfoot. And the Loch Ness Monster, and UFOs. And DB Cooper. If I had a better understanding of those crop circles, and the prehistoric beast slithering in the depths of Lake Champlain, I’d believe in those too.
I’m disappointed that no one has produced any legit evidence proving Bigfoot’s existence. If I remember this correctly, someone in Roger Patterson’s posse gave a deathbed confession regarding the gorilla suit made famous in the photo a couple inches above here. Might have been Rodge himself. Not sure, and Googling the sitcheeashun goes against the grain of this off the cuff blog. Come to think of it, I believe that famous Nessie photo was similarly debunked. Another deathbed confession, maybe.
Hey if you have been involved somehow in perpetrating some sort of massive fraud on the public regarding the Skunk Ape, Abominable Snowman, Sasquatch, or Yeti, keep it to yourself. If your great grandfather plodded across a mossy bog near Loch Ness, dropping his Wellies in such a way as to look like Brontosaurus tracks, I don’t want to know.
I’m about as “show me prove it to me” as they come. I was a buzz saw in the deposition room. Cross-examination. One of the few things I truly miss about private law practice. So I know, really I do, that it’s pretty unlikely these things actually exist.
Still, I need to believe. In something. Suspension of logic and disbelief. The Skunk Ape is it. I have to counterbalance all the “show me” stuff with something that can’t be shown. It’s one of the few threads of childhood that I refuse to let go.
My own personal, hairy, Gigantopithecus Tooth Fairy.
I think it might be important to preserve some sort of childlike wonder. Adults with kids and jobs and mortgages and straight faces aren’t still water-painting on thick construction paper in art class. Aren’t tilting their heads to the heavens catching snowflakes on their tongues. Excitedly sliding teeth under their pillows. Leaving carrots & cookies on a little plate next to the fireplace. Positive that a man-sized rabbit brought us this basket with green plastic grass and chocolate. Reminders of a simpler time. A time when we were easily pleased. When “pleased” was the default.
I want to get back to that default.
So I am a believer who will stay a believer. You can keep your hair samples and plastic casts. I “know” they’re fake. Still, I’m not letting go.
Thanks for reading.