Dark Banquet - Bill Schutt [75]
“But roach control is different nowadays,” she said. “In many instances, they use poison baits instead of spraying. And since bed bugs only feed on blood, roach or ant baits are ineffective.”*115
According to Andy Linares, “Those older sprays offered additional protection because they would actually vaporize and redeposit themselves onto areas adjacent to where they’d been sprayed initially.”
One of the things everyone seemed to agree on is that “bug bombs” are a terrible idea for dealing with bed bugs.
“They’re one of the worst things you can do,” said Dr. Gangloff-Kaufmann.
“You might kill some individuals, but you’ll send others into voids and sheltered areas—and possibly into your neighbor’s apartment,” warned Gil Bloom. “And with bug bombs, most of the bugs won’t get a lethal dose anyway.”
“It’ll just irritate them and get them to move around a bit,” Lou Sorkin told me as we sat in his museum office.
I asked the entomologist if there were any other reasons why bed bug treatments themselves had become part of the problem.
“Well, for one, in New York State, you can’t do a preventative treatment on a building, which means that, by law, you can’t treat a place for bed bugs until there’s a reported infestation.”
“How come?”
Lou hesitated, and I could tell that he was a bit uncomfortable answering this particular question. But after some wheedling on my part, I was able to determine that the reasons for banning preemptive strikes against bed bugs (as well as certain pesticides) were more politically based than scientific.
“Hey, politicians have to keep their constituents happy,” Lou quipped.
I decided to leave it at that, suddenly remembering Lou’s earlier offer to have me feed his bed bug colony.
I nodded toward the canning jar. “So how do you feed those guys, anyway?”
“Simple,” he said. “You just invert the jar and hold it against your arm for five minutes or so.”
As I watched, Lou rolled up his shirtsleeve. I couldn’t help noticing that there were several circular patches of red skin on his forearm and that each was the exact size and shape of the mesh-covered hole in the jar lid.
“That’s really…neat,” I sputtered.
“The welts don’t really itch that much,” he said. “And, anyway, I’m used to it.”
He must have seen me staring at his arm. “Sometimes I guess I let them feed a little too long,” he said with a shrug.
Ticks: the foulest and nastiest creatures that be.
—Pliny the Elder
That which is not good for the beehive cannot be good for the bees.
—Marcus Aurelius (Meditations)
8.
OF MITES AND MEN
The first time I visited Trinidad in August 1991, I brought along one pair of long, cotton field pants and five pairs of shorts. I figured, Hey, it’s hot there every day. Who needs long pants?
On subsequent visits to the country, or any other tropical locale I happened to be working in, I’d bring one pair of shorts, reserved for walking around town (if there was a town) and five pairs of long pants.
The reason for the drastic wardrobe revision can be summed up in one word: chiggers. As I found out, the easiest way to experience these tiny parasites firsthand is to wear short pants (and sandals) while walking through any grassy or wooded area. Unfortunately, that’s exactly how I encountered them as I hiked the forest trails behind the PAX Guest House where I was staying.
It hadn’t seemed like a bad idea—at least initially. It was probably about 90°F with humidity to match and I’d snuck away from my lab work, thinking that a walk under a canopy of green might cool things down a bit.
The hike itself was uneventful and in that regard it was entirely different from my evening treks through the forest. Missing were the night sounds—layer upon layer of chirps, buzzes, and clicks, all of them set against the incessant drone of mosquitoes. With each nighttime walk in the rain forest came a growing awareness that the trees themselves were alive and covered with life, and