Spiders, They Are Our Heroes

In this season of the Witch and Goblin, let us not forget our flea-eating many-legged, dance-floor-occupying friends

Photo by Jen Theodore on Unsplash

Arachno-brobia

The studio where I do most of my writing — a converted garage cum man cave — sits in the middle of the backyard garden. When I gaze out my west-facing window — usually rummaging my brain for a piece of random musical trivia — I view a cornucopia of color. Lush green asparagus ferns, a persimmon tree heavy with ripening fruit, the fuchsia blooms of the princess flower, yellow-brown fig tree leaves soon to coat the deck in a sea of crunchy foliage.

With nature’s bounty surrounding my workspace, I end up sharing my manctuary with all creatures great and small.

The great would be my 85-pound pit mix Bernie, who loves to lay on the carpet by the door where the afternoon sun warms his fur.

Bernie and Steve at the San Leandro Bay (between Oakland and Alameda, CA); not inside the man cave.

The small visitors would include representatives of the insect kingdom. Most of them come and go, flying, hopping, or crawling in and then departing after finding the environs far less appealing than the outside flora. That is if they are able to escape the exit-guards of the man cave: the spiders.

The spiders. The guardians of the door and window frames, the controllers of the corners of the studio. We have an unspoken agreement. I leave them alone as long as they promise not to webbify my album collection and my conga drums.

I often work with the studio door open, so an ample supply of buzzy sustenance keeps my many-legged companions fat and happy. They know they have a good thing going.

Photo by Ed van duijn on Unsplash

Once Bitten, Twice Shy

I didn’t always appreciate spiders.

Growing up, my parents were deathly afraid of them. As a kid, I followed suit, fearing the scary, creepy-crawly arachnids, that seemed to always appear out of nowhere. I imagined their long, hairy legs climbing across my arms and face. I would often walk through the sticky webs that they’d weave across doorways and walkways. Broken web fragments would get in my hair and on my clothes, and it gave me the chills.

When I was twelve, my friend Howard got a Mexican red-knee tarantula (which he named Ben, after the rat in the 1972 movie and accompanying Michael Jackson song, “Ben”). Howard kept Ben in an aquarium in his bedroom.

Not wanting to appear like a scaredy-cat, I let Howard put Ben in the palm of my hand. I was seriously freaking out, and I was sure my hand was shaking and sweating, and Ben was going to bite me. After five seconds, I made Howard take him back. But after that experience, I no longer feared most spiders. I suppose you might call this event tweenage exposure therapy.

Spiders need to find a new PR firm.

In about five minutes of research, I was able to find more than 20 horror films¹ featuring arachnids as deadly, murderous creatures, hell-bent on destroying humanity. I saw Arachnophobia in the movie theater when I was 23, and it pretty much undid the ten years of spider love and appreciation I had developed. I knew logically that arachnids weren’t out to kill me, but it was hard to get those scenes out of my brain.

Spiders are synonymous with Halloween. Most decorations for the holiday feature spiders prominently in their bric-a-brac. I get that this is largely based on the spider’s appearance. Their gangliness, their webbiness, their blobby oval bodies. I understand the stereotyping. But it’s getting old.

The spider is sadly viewed as the pit bull of the insect world. Inherently blood-thirsty creatures with no redeeming qualities. Sure, they might seem scary at first, but once you get to know them, spiders, like pit bulls, just want to cuddle and be fed treats.

Not all popular media has portrayed the arachnid as a dangerous insect to be feared. One of the most popular children’s books of all time is Charlotte’s Web. I remember reading it in elementary school and being so impressed with Charlotte’s kindness and love for Wilbur the pig. It really taught me how essential all living beings are to the survival of the planet.

And, of course, there is Spiderman. The comics, the TV shows, the films, and the animated films. The lunch boxes, the toys, and the Halloween costumes.

So maybe the PR firm hasn’t been completely sleeping on the job.

Photo by Paramount Pictures

Three Essential Earspiders

It doesn’t have the same ring to it as earworms, but I have a few regular spidery song loops that have been known to torture me.

1. They Might Be Giants — Spider

The most common one is the song “Spider” by They Might Be Giants. I’ve already written about TMBG more than any other band or artist (including Phil Collins), so I’m not going to elaborate too much here, but I must mention that this very strange tune from the amazing Apollo 18 album, is one that my wife and I sing to each other on a regular basis.

One of us will cry out: “Spider!” (but pronounced “Schpider!”)

And the other will respond: “He is our hero!”

Then the first person will say again: “Spider!” The other growls: “Get rid of.”

We may or may not “sing” the rest of the lyrics, which are few (the song is 51 seconds), but for completion-sake are:

Spider/Step on spider/Spider/We love you spider!/I promise not to kill you!/Spider/Must stop!

It’s sort of one of those cutesy couply-things that make anyone within earshot shake their heads. Unless they are They Might Be Giants’ fans. Then they might join in.

2. Britta Pejic - Spiders on the Dance Floor

The greatest Halloween song of 2023 has arrived, and not a minute too soon. Or too late.

If you are looking for witty humor 1000 times better than my groaner puns, then look no further than “Spiders on the Dance Floor” by Britta Pejic. It’s got the wit, charm, and timeless quality of such classics as “The Monster Mash” and Oingo Boingo’s “Dead Man’s Party.”

Britta Pejic is a musician extraordinaire, an artist, a French teacher, a language learner, and a damn fine writer to boot. If she weren’t such a cool person, I would be seething with envy at her myriad of talents.

I highly recommend following Britta here at Substack, at BrittaRiffindots. And, you can read her writing, check out her new (and less new) music, and, also view some of her art (and more!) on her website https://riffindots.com/

As frightening as the premise of this song might seem to some — the dance floor being overrun by spiders — to me, it’s kinda sweet. I am picturing the spiders all dolled up in their Halloween finest (“I can’t believe we both dressed up as Octopus! Again!”) doing the watusi or the hypocrite while the humans wait on the sidelines, drinking punch spiked with cheap vodka.

You can find this and other fabulous music by Britta on her Bandcamp page. Go there now and buy her songs, before the evildoers bent on destroying Bandcamp have their way.

3. Claypool Lennon Delirium - Boris the Spider

I was going to share the original version you all know by The Who. But I’m a big fan of Claypool Lennon Delirium so decided to go with their quite faithful cover. If you aren’t familiar with CLD, the Claypool is Les Claypool, bassist and vocalist of Primus. The Lennon is Sean Lennon, aka - the John and Yoko offspring (and a brilliant musician in his own right). He plays guitar, keyboards, and sings.

If you’d like to hear more CLD, you couldn’t go wrong with either of their two albums, 2016’s Monolith of Phobos, or 2019’s South of Reality. I’m partial to their 2nd, as it was my first exposure to them, and it’s got a bit more pop mixed into the psychedelic, sci-fi fun. But both are truly great.

• Spiders - afraid of them? Still? Do you let them live in your home? Catch and release?

• Do you have a favorite spider song that I haven’t mentioned?

• Any cutesy back-and-forth songs that you sing/perform with your partner?

• For you Halloween celebrators, what costume are you going to wear?

• I’ll be sharing a wider-ranging “insect” playlist with you fine folks in the next ten days. Feel free to make a request for the list!

As always, thanks for reading!

Steve

1. https://www.allhorror.com/subgenre/spiders?sf_paged=2

Most of these are D-level horror films, but several were A and B-level and played in actual movie theaters.