Partly Cloudy, 64°
Last summer I heard the craziest little things in my backyard—these chubby little cicada fucks who make noises like “criiiink, criiiiink.” To be honest, it’s hard to write an impression down on paper, but everyone I know says I can do a really good one, so you just gotta trust me on this. I go “Criiink, Criiink” and they’re like: “Matty what the hell who knew you could do such good impressions?” And I’m like: “Ha. Yeah.” And then they’re like: “No dude you should audition for SNL or something.” And I’m over here like: “Bet I would lowkey.”
I had no clue these little things ever existed until last summer; and that is because my childhood buddy Edwin said they only come out every 17 years. And I thought, “Dannnng, that seems like a long time.” And then I thought, “Not only does that seem like a long time, it seems like the perfect amount of time.” So much could happen in 17 years. You can drive, have your own Venmo account, join the military, accept payments on your own Venmo account, become a blood donor. Those cicadas are right to wait that long—and I really want to emphasize how long of a time that is. By that time they’re probably so mature. Like they must be so like down-to-earth. And you bet after waiting 17 years to emerge, some of them are gonna act old for their age. I bet that’s so true. And that’s cool.
They could theoretically wait longer. But I want to pose this question: Why? Why wait? Honestly I’m thinking they could come out even after 16 years. That seems pretty reasonable too. Not that I’m pushing them to, I’m not gonna force them or anything. But yeah 17 years seems more than enough time to grow into a fully mature, socially aware, independent, yet youthfully impressionable cicada.
