Illustration by Jan A. Igoe
In medieval times, superstitious folks believed that evil spirits lived in cabbage leaves. I believe they live in broccoli spears, but that’s not the point. The point is that people don’t brake for facts in any century.
For example, anyone who was around in 1969 remembers being glued to the television to witness Apollo 11 Uber our first astronauts to the moon. But 50 years later, skeptics still claim that Armstrong’s little stroll was not “a giant leap for mankind” at all. Nope. According to them, the whole thing was a government hoax, probably filmed at Area 51, that mysterious military installation in the middle of the Nevada desert. Everybody knows that’s where we keep alien invaders and their coolest gadgets.
I see two problems with this theory. First, if aliens are smart enough to travel a gazillion miles from planets so remote that our most powerful telescopes can’t see them, they’re smart enough to land in Tahiti or Bora Bora. I can hear the spaceship commander now: “Which idiot set the GPS for Nevada?”
We may never know because the Air Force doesn’t entertain guests at top-secret military sites. Not from this planet, anyway. So if you’re waiting for an “Open House” sign, don’t hold your breath. It’s guarded by hostile hermits, not Martha Stewart.
The only intel we have on Area 51 came from Will Smith, when he and Jeff Goldblum saved Earth in Independence Day. But that was before some cuckoo bird invited everybody on Facebook to storm the installation. “They can’t stop all of us,” his post promised. Seconds later, the Nevada version of Woodstock was in the works. That’s the beauty of social media. A bad plan can go viral faster than medieval spirits on cruciferous vegetables.
Which brings me to my second problem: If you are an advanced life form, would you let some dumb Earthling lock you in a cage to perform experiments? You got here from outer space, but you can’t pick a lock? Please.
If we want to meet aliens, let’s start thinking like them. Forget Area 51. They’re going to Vegas. From outer space, those bright lights make the perfect landing strip. So what if you’re 7 feet tall with six eyes and pink tentacles? You’ll blend right in. And there’s free parking.
Besides, even if they spotted E.T. playing roulette, nobody would rat him out. Worst case scenario: Promoters would book him for two shows a night and a Saturday matinee. Remember, what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas. Or at least, on Earth.
Just one day after the plan to crash the Area 51 party caught fire, the Loch Ness monster made news. Thousands of people wanted to storm Nessie’s lake, but the plan lost momentum when they realized it’s open to the public year-round, monsters and all. No gates to crash or guards to battle. So that fizzled. What fun is that?
There was still one really great idea to come out of all this social media madness and I hope it takes off. An Oklahoma animal shelter dressed their adoptable dogs in tin foil hats and invited everybody to “storm the shelter.” Why waste your time on potentially hostile aliens when there are so many friendly furry creatures eager to slobber you with gratitude? That’s my kind of storm.
So let’s recap: Do not bother the nice people at Area 51 who are armed and might be cranky. Forget aliens. Go adopt a dog. And wash your cabbage thoroughly.
Jan A. Igoe may have relatives in Area 51. She lives to storm humane societies and adoption fairs, where the most intelligent life forms have four legs and a tail. Join her at HumorMe@scliving.coop.