Penguin lessons...

I don't think I will ever be able to complain about my life again. Kiddo and I saw The March of the Penguins yesterday. I mean, just living in Antarctica is a trick, but the stress they endure to propogate their species is beyond the pale. What magnificent creatures they are, sleek and eloquent, well, when they are standing still. I kept seeing that image of Dick Van Dyke schlepping around with his pants around his knees in Mary Poppins whenever they walked, very funny. After their 70 mile trek to the breeding grounds, they perform an elegant courtship ritual. When the egg comes, things get tricky. Mother must transfer it to Dad, and many don't make it; they freeze instead. That was the first teary moment. The mothers then trek back to the sea, while the fathers tend the eggs through the most God-awful weather on the planet. More eggs bite the dust. If a mother is eaten by seals while feeding, that chick dies, too. And poor Dad, he doesn't eat anything for 4 months! Who thought up this system, anyway? When Mom returns, they do that little transfer, with the chick this time, and Dad waddles off to feed, now more than 70 miles because the ice has spread. Later, both parents get to share in their progeny, for a short moment before they both waddle off, leaving the chicks on their own. The good news is that the sea has come to them, so no long trek. And the new ones get a reprieve of five years playing in the ocean before they begin marching inland every year. Amazing. Well, I guess it beats the cicada, who hibernates for 17 years, emerges, sheds its skin, and enjoys maybe three weeks of life. What is that all about?