Less Moray is More, Eh?

Mike wrote about going to the Birch Aquarium the other day.  As is often the case, his post was accompanied by a number of photos he took of the excursion; others that he had taken while at the fish zoo were also posted on his flickr site. I took a few minutes to paw through them, and lit upon this image, which I hope he will forgive me for posting hereabouts without the usual “asking permission” formalities and so on.

It got me thinking about my own adventures in icthyology, many years ago.

Before I tell you the story, you have to promise to keep an open mind throughout.   Here’s the dilemma: as a grown-up person, a responsible adult with a job and a family, I am a capable and impressive person.  A living embodiment of the frontier spirit, some would say, I am plucky and irrepressible; not the kind of fellow whose bold actions and decisive self-reliance might be derailed by something so insignificant and easily defeasible as “fear.”  But I was not born to this devil-may-care attitude;  it took time for me to evolve into the tough-as-nails quasi-commando with whom you are now so familiar.