It's NOT About Turtles

What is made of plastic, is about the size of a serving platter and has a little plastic palm tree stuck in the middle of it? If you can answer this correctly, you are probably more than 40 years old. I am referring to the turtle bowl that is now absent but was so common in many homes 30some years ago. I have often wondered where those little turtles went. It turns out that a little more than 30 years ago, they were banned because of health concerns. (Check these links for some background.) Apparently, sticking your pet turtle in your mouth can have some undesirable side effects. Go figure!

I’ll leave all the salmonella discussion alone because I am definitely not qualified to comment on national health policy. I will, however, comment on the appeal of the little red-eared slider turtle. I had more than one when I was growing up. I was a proud owner of them right up to the time they were banned, I suspect. I remember going to Super S Drugs in Calgary, going down into the basement and making a beeline for the pet section. I loved to look at the turtles, but I spent just as much time looking at the turtle bowls. Eventually, my parents caved, and it was a proud moment for me when I installed the little palm tree on the island in the center of the bowl and put Flash in his new home. Okay, to be honest, I don’t remember putting Flash in the bowl. But I do remember erecting that tree!

I don’t think Flash (sarcasm, irony and puns were three of the main communication tools in our house) ever took as much pleasure in the palm tree as I did. I loved the little brown trunk and the green pop-off fronds. It did not seem odd to me to be attracted to a tree at age 7, but, 30some years later, I have paused to give this a second thought. It seems to me that the little tree stood for something exotic and foreign, something I would never get to touch or see in person. (A trip to Vernon was a big deal at that time in my life.) Now, much later in life, it turns out that the tree was the easy part. I have touched, climbed, and lived off the meat of the coconut palm tree, but can’t seem to get my hands on a turtle!

There is no question in my mind that the little tree in my turtle bowl sparked my imagination and motivated me to travel to faraway lands where I could sleep under the big brother to my bowl ornament. By the way, don’t sleep under a coconut tree; there are more people killed by falling coconuts than by sharks. As an aside, there is an entire industry based on climbing coconut palms and removing young coconuts before they mature and fall killing unsuspecting tourists. Take your inspiration where you find it, a plastic tree, a paper airplane, or even a falling apple (oh right, that one has been done).