Dear mosquito, Oh, how we miss thee!

An ode to that bloodthirsty, needle-nosed pest...

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There’s no easy way to say this, so I’m going to just blurt it out — I really miss those guys!

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Opinion

Hey there, time traveller!
This article was published 15/07/2017 (3182 days ago), so information in it may no longer be current.

There’s no easy way to say this, so I’m going to just blurt it out — I really miss those guys!

And when I say “those guys,” I am, of course, referring to the bloodthirsty swarms of needle-nosed mosquitoes that normally descend on us when we are foolish enough to venture outside at this time of year.

I think most of us can agree it is hard to recall any previous Winnipeg summer where we have gone so long without mosquitoes the size of Staffordshire Terriers attempting to drain our vital fluids and/or flying off with our household pets.

BORIS MINKEVICH / WINNIPEG FREE PRESS files
Manitoba’s notorious skeeter population is nowhere to be found, except at Komarno’s statue.
BORIS MINKEVICH / WINNIPEG FREE PRESS files Manitoba’s notorious skeeter population is nowhere to be found, except at Komarno’s statue.

As far as I can understand without doing any actual research, we are enjoying historic low skeeter numbers because the weather has been a tad damp and a little on the cool side, whereas these nuisance insects need a stretch of weather similar to a fast-food heat lamp before their population explodes.

Call me an idiot — and I am pretty sure most of you are going to do just that — but I really miss being harassed by mosquitoes.

This is only partly because I know mosquitoes, unlike some members of my immediate family, truly love me. In the eyes of your average mosquito, I am the human equivalent of a 300-pound jam buster.

The big question I want to ask today is this: If we do not have mosquitoes, are we still Winnipeggers?

I ask in all seriousness, because a Winnipeg summer without mosquitoes is kind of like… OK, give me a moment here to think… it’s like Las Vegas without betting, a Tim Hortons outlet without a lineup long enough to be seen from outer space or the Toronto Maple Leafs winning the Stanley Cup, if you catch my drift.

Like it or not, mosquitoes are an integral part of Winnipeg’s cultural fabric, whatever that means. Ask anyone else in Canada to tell you about Winnipeg and the first thing out of their nasty little mouth will be: “It’s (bad word) cold in the winter, and they have (very bad word) mosquitoes the size of recreational vehicles in the summer.”

Like it or not, people, mosquitoes are a big part of who we are. And if we’re going to be honest, Winnipeggers take a perverse pride in the fact everyone else in the world stands in awe of our ability to cope with bone-chilling temperatures and insects larger and less welcome than Donald Trump.

Admittedly, I have always viewed the annual summer mosquito invasion in the same way I view visits from my relatives — they always overstay their welcome, they have a unique ability to destroy an otherwise pleasant summer evening and they really don’t like it when you slap them.

But I am having a hard time wrapping my mind around the fact we are in the middle of July and you can’t find a mosquito with a geiger counter. Yes, I realize you would only use a geiger counter to detect radioactive mosquitoes, but I think you get the general thrust of my gist.

It just doesn’t feel like a Winnipeg summer at the moment. I mean, I am not currently sporting a vicious sunburn on my medically sensitive areas and my body is not covered from head to toe in those little unsightly white lumps I always get from the first crop of mosquito bites of the season.

And do NOT try to tell me that you, a reasonably sane Winnipegger, have NOT taken mosquitoes into your heart.

Komarno is Ukrainian for mosquito. There is a 4.6 meter statue of a mosquito, built in 1984 in Komarno, Manitoba. May 31, 2012 BORIS MINKEVICH / WINNIPEG FREE PRESS
Komarno is Ukrainian for mosquito. There is a 4.6 meter statue of a mosquito, built in 1984 in Komarno, Manitoba. May 31, 2012 BORIS MINKEVICH / WINNIPEG FREE PRESS

Question: How do you, a veteran Winnipegger, react when a friend or family member or business associate from another city starts complaining, in a high-pitched voice, about how cold it is where they live or how scary their mosquitoes are?

Answer: It makes your hometown blood boil, doesn’t it? You feel like saying something along the lines of: “Shut your stupid cake hole! You don’t know (another bad word) about cold weather or mosquitoes. I know that because I LIVE IN WINNIPEG!”

The bitter reality is no one other than residents of our fair city — and I do mean no one, except for citizens of every other city and town in Manitoba — has earned the right to whine incessantly about being forced to live with soul-destroying cold and bugs the equivalent of piranhas with wings.

(For the record, I will point out that, as a cub reporter, I wrote countless stories promoting a drive by the village of Komarno, which is located about 70 kilometres north of Winnipeg and whose name means “mosquito infested” in Ukrainian, to build the world’s largest mosquito statue. You’re welcome.)

Icy temperatures and bloodthirsty bugs are Winnipeg’s twin red badges of courage, and we wear them with unfettered hometown pride. We are fiercely protective of our pests. Which makes it hard to wrap our feverish brains around being in the heart of summer with mosquitoes as scarce as decent haircuts in the White House. OK, even I don’t know what that last sentence means, but I think you get the point.

The good news — stay with me — is squadrons of hungry mosquitoes are bound to show up in our backyards any day now. And we will swat them, and curse them and spray them with toxic chemicals — and it will be wonderful!

Because we are Winnipeggers, and summer isn’t the same without a bunch of obnoxious visitors. I’m referring to my out-of-town relatives, of course, but the same goes for mosquitoes.

doug.speirs@freepress.mb.ca

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