Tank Update #3: Population Explosion And A New Giorgio...The Green Slime...Aquacalypse Now...

Funny how a fish tank can mimic your life.  Maybe I don't mean that.  I don't know.

There is a blanket of blue-green algae over many of the rocks and on the back panel of the tank that grew back almost immediately after I spent a whole afternoon cleaning it out a few days ago.

One day probably a month and a half ago now my sons and I went to a small pond near our house.  I wanted to add some new fish to the tank, to see what would happen.  We netted what we thought were tiny minnows or fry of some sort, and didn't notice until we put them in the tank that they were pollywogs!  Some of the large Dace went right for them.  I did notice one escape to the bottom, but figured soon enough my Dace would remember their hunting instinct and eat it.  Weeks later I was counting the Dace as I often do, and there were eleven out of a possible ten.  I reached in and moved the rock the eleventh was behind, and it shot out halfway across the tank and then I could see the tadpole tail and bulbous body.  Either the Dace don't like wog, or this guy is a true survivor.  Later my son reported to me that there were TWO pollywogs.  One is a bit smaller than the first.  Maybe they are a tree frog and a green frog, or a toad.  We'll see what they turn into.  They will have to be released into the appropriate environment when the time comes.  I believe they eat algae, and they hide a lot.

But what about fish?

The river has been running very low all summer, and through snorkeling, we know there has been no stocking of trout.  Though the fishing is not good, netting small Dace is made easier by the drought.  I was able to catch fourteen fish one day recently, including a new fish just like the deceased Giorgio, a bottom skulking fish with a very camouflaged body.  In fact I thought the original Giorgio was an accidental catch, but there one was in about five inches of water, and I was quick enough to net it.  I think the original Giorgio starved to death, not being able to find suitable food in the artificial environment, but this new one didn't last long enough to confirm the theory.  The new Giorgio died just two days after entering the tank.  Possibly he was injured in the capture.  I think I will leave this species alone from now on.

A couple of the new fish are not Dace.  They look similar in that they have a stripe down their side, but it is less prominent and their coloration is more silvery and they have more visible scales.  Their head is more blunt and they have a downward-angled mouth.  They are about an inch long and seem at home with the Dace.  They tend to swim in longer straight lines than the Dace, who swim around all willy-nilly. I think they may possibly be fry of a larger fish that I have seen while snorkeling in the river.  If so they could grow to about six inches.  If they survive we will see.  So far they seem to be doing okay despite the debacle I am about to relate.

After adding the new fish it became impossible to count them as they swirled around in the tank, but the ensuing die-off is making it much easier to count them now.  About two weeks ago I found one of the smaller, new-batch Dace sunk to the bottom, then I noticed another dead, stuck to the pump intake.  This was cause for some concern, because it was one of the big, farm-raised "Henchmen"!  This was a healthy strong fish that had lived in the tank for almost a year, so it wasn't just death due to capture and new environment. No, something is killing them off.

I figured I'd better get rid of that blue-green algae bloom and change the water in case it was ammonia build-up.  The stuff can be scooped up easily with a net, so I got as much as I could out, then changed out two-thirds of the water and cleaned the pump.  I looked forward to happier, healthier fish, but they kept on dying.  They begin to float at the surface and gulp air, and they sometimes have kind of a gooey look to them and then they're dead.  One henchman gone, the crooked Dace, Hercules, most of the new batch except the two odd-species ones, all dead.  Last time I checked, there were eight fish, but that was yesterday, so no deaths today.

Hey, why don't you Google "Ich"?

Okay, so maybe what I said about the tank mimicking my life was not far off.  The fish live in their own Pediddleville.  Off to the pet store to get some ich treatment.

Hero The Badge

I am not a frequent flyer. The last time I flew overseas before this recent trip to Switzerland was when cell phones were rare and laptops were even rarer.  Now there are all manner of smart phones, iPads, and laptops, and instead of being at the mercy of whatever the airline chooses for an in-flight movie, you have a big menu of choices of things to watch, individually, on the small screen on the back of the seat in front of you.

Though it was a long flight, I had no interest in watching anything, but my eyes kept being drawn to the screen of the laptop of a woman sitting across the aisle and one row ahead of me.  It was work material she was reviewing, some kind of marketing presentation for a major American beer brand.  It drove me crazy that I would have any interest in bullshit like that, but I must say it was an educational experience.  It was educational not in the sense that I learned interesting facts about the beer, but that I got a glimpse into the mindset of that particular tribe.  My tribe is artists, musicians, writers, creative people.  This woman, who was probably quite creative herself, was from, or was trying to join, the marketing tribe.

The marketing tribe has peculiar ideas about the use of the language my tribe reveres.

My tribe uses the language to create, to inform, sometimes to fight.  The marketing tribe uses it to manipulate, to set up artificial realities that have only one objective.

The gist of the marketing scheme she was studying was that they were trying to establish a market of people who not only were loyal to their product, but who actually believe that an integral aspect of their "lifestyle" was consuming that product.  Fair enough, if that's your job, I guess.  So this lifestyle would consist of certain activities, preferences, and such, with an emphasis on good times--and always present would be this product.  To put it in my terms, these people, this market, would be a tribe.

The really twisted thing they did to my tribe's language was to refer to this whole lifestyle thing as a "badge", and the objective for the marketing tribe was to "hero the badge".  What the fuck?  Last time I checked, the word "hero" was not a verb.  I should talk, I guess.  I mean, "What the fuck" makes no grammatical sense either, but at least it's a recognized phrase, having a dramatic or comic effect.  These marketing people are just corrupting the language for commerce. I have been annoyed at how companies now "partner with" other companies or organizations instead of simply working with them. It's another example of this foolishness.  I guess it's supposed to sound more impressive to the average Joe when you "verb a noun", but I have a degree in English Literature, and it makes me cringe.

At some point she must have closed the laptop and maybe went to sleep, sparing me the eye draw.  Later I saw her, laptop bag in hand, at Baggage Claim.  We had gone from a clean, well designed airport in Europe to an old, oppressively warm one with stinky restrooms just outside New York City.  She may have been thinking Bud Light.  Here we go.  Hero the Badge.  I was still thinking Feldeschlosschen, Euli, Oufi, Warteck, Lowenbrau...We don't need no stinking badges!