9 months ago today, I put up my very first real post. This was it. I’m reposting because it’s funny, and I’m lazy. I love you. The end.
I was visiting the Naples Zoo with my kids, and much to our surprise they had added a “FEED THE GIRAFFES” attraction since the last time we had been there. Of course, from the second we entered the zoo on that balmy 89 degree day, the only thing my 3 and 6 year old sons wanted to do was FEED THE GIRAFFES. “When can we feed the giraffes? How much farther to the giraffes? I have to poop. Are we almost at the giraffes? I want an ice cream. My feet hurt. When can we feed the giraffes?” Did I mention that it was the Saturday before Easter, and that admission was free for county residents? I mistook it to be Take Your 8 Month Pregnant Club Attire Wearing Teenage Girlfriend To The Zoo Day. After an hour of corralling our way through the entire zoo, we finally arrived at the line to FEED THE GIRAFFES. I knew this was going to end badly.
The adventure began by standing in a blindingly hot 25 minute line. Then, for 5 dollars a kid, they were presented with a wilted romaine leaf. After that, they were granted entry through a turnstile to approach a fenced overlook from which you could FEED THE GIRAFFES. Overheated and frustrated toddlers were waving their pathetic wilted lettuce leaves at the giraffes in vain attempts to entice them over. Sweaty parents were thwarting meltdowns and feigning frustration through the lenses of their cameras. The Giraffes, however, had other plans that day. They chose to stand in the shade, as far away from all humans as possible, looking mildly annoyed, as only a giraffe can.
I made a mental note to bring heads of romaine in my backpack next time, selling leaves for 4 dollars a piece about 50 yards ahead of the FEED THE GIRAFFE line. This would be a good way to recoup some of my losses on admission fees and ice creams, while providing a valuable learning experience in entrepreneurialism for my kids.
As you can imagine, my offspring were none to happy about the decision the giraffes had made. I had to come up with something quick, something to divert their little minds from the endless obsession with FEEDING THE GIRAFFES. And then it hit me…
What happens when the giraffes die? I mean, I know they lay down or fall over and die or whatever, but what does the zookeeper DO with them? Are they carted off whole in a tractor-trailer to a landfill? Are they cut up into smaller pieces, perhaps to reduce the cost of transport? Are they “recycled” to the alligators? Are they given a proper burial and the respect they deserve for living in a confined space eating wilted lettuce for our amusement? Me thinks not.
Then came The Million Dollar Idea. You are lucky I am not making you sign a non-disclosure before reading this.
Picture a pine box casket in the shape of a giraffe. It would be huge, and educational for the kids. There could be a new attraction, called BURY THE GIRAFFES, and for 5 dollars per child, they get a scoop of dirt, walk through a turnstile, and throw it onto the casket. That is, unless you buy your dirt from me, 50 yards ahead, for 4 dollars a scoop.
Categories: Big Ideas