It was during a recent day trip to the Toronto Zoo that I was struck with the realization that most of the people visiting that day were on the wrong side of the bars, if you know what I mean.
All the cute baby white lions and polar bear cubs in the world could not fix the atrocities of the general public in attendance on a typical Sunday.
Not everyone agrees with zoos, but since it’s the only way my kids will likely learn to appreciate some of our planet’s rare, near-extinct animals (beyond a Webkinz collection), I appreciate the zoo’s work to educate and promote a global perspective for conservation. While we judge these institutions, we neglect to see that we’ve created a world where the animals need them, just to survive. That’s messed up.
When school was in session my son did a report on orangutans. Intrigued, he asked me to take him to meet one. I suggested we have a family reunion (ba-dum-dum). Last Sunday, it hit me; the zoo is only a treacherous drive across the top of the 401 in the middle of summer road construction. Let’s go.
When we arrived and I handed over a week’s earnings, and gave the boy child the map. I can’t read them.
Unfortunately, the place was a minefield of baby strollers, and let me assure you, some of them were as big as the SUVs they came out of, and equally as dangerous when backing up. A hostile mommy pushing a double barrel, fully loaded carriage monstrosity through the narrow pathway of a flower garden nearly knocked me down in Mozambique. In the Arctic, some rogue daddy with a red wagon, complete with a prairie caravan sunroof and drink holders, decided to make a sudden stop and almost took me out at the knees.
But the prize for me was the family convoy of strollers carrying unruly but very fashionable toddlers, pushed by mommies in the highest heeled shoes they could find, iPhones in hand, pushing through the crowds blaring Lady Ga Ga’s Poker Face from a portable stereo device. Yep. I couldn’t make that up. I swear I saw a penguin stop at the glass and tap on it so his buddies could witness the spectacle.
The best moment was when one woman screamed because a Canada goose was snoozing in the shade of a picnic table. She was terrified it would attack (because naturally they do that when they are sleeping). Her friend asked her, “Do you think it will lay an egg?” Oh, how I wish I were kidding.
But then there was the splash pad. How sad that the zoo had to stoop to the same level of entertainment as every other destination. Instead of lining up to see the near extinct animals, like the rare jaguar or majestic elephants, the splash pad was where everyone wanted to be. After all, the parents had to check their emails in the shade. Even my own kids whined and made me miss the kangaroos in favor of a giant sprinkler pad. So I checked emails too. When in Rome…
What is the world coming too? Since when isn’t the sheer excitement of seeing a real giraffe, zebra or the giant gorilla enough to enjoy without needing a sound track or a water slide? Maybe there is an app for that too. Sigh.