When I was living in Boston I had high hopes of seeing a moose. Maine was not really that far away. I had friends I visited up there. I passed by extensive moose habitat going to Montreal and Quebec City. I was up early in the morning in mooseland for skiing and hiking and other outdoor activities. It seemed inevitable that I would see a moose if I only kept my eyes open. According to the local populations of various moose-inhabited regions, they were all over the place. Alas, it was not to be.
Instead, I made the comment to several people that I really wanted to see a moose, would they help me look for a moose and where have all the moose gone, anyway? So that started a spate of unhelpful comments. “Look, a moose!” (pointing at an embroidered blanket of a woodland scene in a gift shop). “Moose! Over there!” (hand-waving at various hearth tongs and pokers with moosehead handles at a friend’s home). “No really, it’s a real moose!” (indication of mounted moosehead in the rafters at a Maine restaurant). I know you all think it’s funny that I get excited every time and that I really am that gullible. But seriously. Enough is enough.
Evidently, even moving to the other coast is not enough. So far, I have received in the mail 1) a ‘brake for moose’ window decal for the car I dont’ have, 2) a moose-covered potholder, and 3) moose-themed postcards. But the one that really takes the cake is the departure gift from my old office in Boston, MA that was hand delivered to me here in Portland, OR late yesterday. Let me just give you the visual image:
Yes, it IS a stuffed animal moose handbag. It really zips open so you can store your goods in the moose’s insides. It really is one of the most awkward looking things I’ve seen in awhile, including myself when I wake up on a Gene Wilder hair day. And it’s all mine.