Squid are very important to me.
Not in the usual, I-like-to-eat-them way, because I don't.
When I was five or so, a friend loaned me their cassette tape of 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea and unwittingly triggered an obsession, about 20,000 Leagues in general and squid in particular. I happily marched off to the library to learn more about my favourite cephalopod (though octopi also rock).
Only, there were no books about squid. It was a crushing blow. This was pre-internet, after all. I asked my mom what to do, and she told me I should write my own book. I was like, with what information??? The whole point of getting a book about squid is to learn about them because I've got nothing. Everything I know is from this child's version of 20,000 Leagues. Do you want me to make stuff up?!
I learned young that, if it doesn't exist, you'll just have to fucking write it yourself. (I don't remember if I ever wrote the book).
One of my favourite places in the world (that I've seen so far) is the Royal Tyrell Museum in Drumheller, Alberta. They had (and hopefully still have) a pink rubber squid in a tank of water, with a little hose attached to it. You squeeze a bulb and the hose pushes air into the squid and it rockets around the tank, demonstrating how squid move. It's amazing. It was amazing when I first saw it at five, and it's still amazing. (For those of you just tuning in: this post was written by several two-year-olds in a trench coat).
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