The Picture of Dorian...Fish

The fish died.

What the bloody hell does that mean, you might ask, as well you should.

Well, this fish tale begins with an explanation of my tendency towards the mystical - seeing meaning and patterns in the world around me - making strange and bizarre connections. It's probably because I was an English Major.

As has been quite evident both here and on Facebook, I have been in a royal funk. I realize that this particular blog post will now seem suspiciously manicky (?) maniacal? How about just plain crazy? ...it will seem suspiciously crazy, and leave you all wondering on my state of mind.

Anyway...

The image is representative of The Picture of Dorian Gray, a novella by Oscar Wilde, about a man who's debauchery leaves him physically unscathed, while a portrait of him, hidden in the attic, bears all the signs of his horrid life, so that by the end of the story, the portrait is particularly rotted and hideous.

So what the heck has this to do with a fish? Well, this is a representative picture of what my fish Akbar looked like. Akbar was a Black Moor Goldfish, may he rest in peace.

My good friends, Georgie and Mary, have some awesome fish tanks - big, huge ones - like 90 gallons with live plants. I almost went out and invested in a big tank so I could have one too. Thankfully, I got wise at just the last moment and decided that I had to properly care for my 10 gallon tank for at least six months before I would let myself spend money on a bigger tank.

So I purchased Akbar to join my other fantail goldfish who I then decided to call Jeff. Akbar and Jeff? Get it? No? OK, well first off I wanted to remember the name of that guy from the Star Wars movies who looked like a fish - turns out his name is Admiral Akbar and this is what he looks like.

You see the resemblance immediately, I'm certain. My fish HAD to have the name Akbar. It just made good fish sense. So what of his partner's name? Jeff?

Those of you who have lived in Chicago and peruse The Reader are familiar with a particular comic strip - that is to say, "Life In Hell." I'm not certain where it is published in other cities, but it was a favorite of mine when I lived in Chicago. Here below is a picture of Akbar and Jeff, who just happen to be gay, and are two of the characters at times featured in this strip by Matt Groening of The Simpsons fame.

For more information about his comic strip, you can check out the write up at Wikipedia.

OK, so that explains about how I ended up with Akbar and Jeff, but remember that this is about Dorian Gray, a dead fish, and my foul mood, so bear with me, ok?

The fish died. Akbar, that is. Just before I went to Chicago, I made sure that I thoroughly cleaned the fish tank. The vacuum method just wasn't cutting it - goldfish are just too damn dirty. They crap all the time!

Right about this time I also noticed that Akbar was apparently changing color. Goldfish--or Koi as they are called when they get big and live in fancy ponds--are known to change their color, particularly as they get bigger, and Akbar had grown somewhat since I purchased him a few months back. He was shedding his black tone and turning silver on his upper torso - do fish have torso's?

By last week in the midst of my mood though I realized that something else seemed to be occurring as the top edge of his torso went from silver to almost transluscent and then I saw tiny nasty white fuzz on him as well. The poor bastard wasn't changing color - he had a wicked, wicked fungal infection.

I finally made it to the store and picked up some medicine that turned the tank neon green. By this point Akbar wasn't doing very well and was mostly just hiding in the plastic foliage. He was, however, still floating in an upright position.

By the time Georgie and Mary came over for dinner on Sunday, the tank was entering it's third day of treatment and the fungal growth was starting to peel away. I thought for sure that Georgie and Mary would order me to give the poor fish the flush immediately, but they thought that the fungus/dead part was clearly peeling off like a sun burn and that perhaps he would pull through. He didn't.

On the fifth day I removed 1/4 of the water from the tank, replaced it it with clean water, and returned the charcoal filter to the tank. By this point Akbar was really starting to look like - you got it, The Picture of Dorian Gray - and as the surface layer peeled away, I could see deep pockets of fungal infection imbedded underneath. Sure enough I found him floating sideways and no longer breathing the next morning and gave him a quick flush, relieved that I did not have to send a dying fish to his doom.

That Dorian Gray image stuck with me though and I began to see little Akbar as a metaphor for my situation - mystical remember? As my life spiralled more and more out of control, Akbar's little body slowly rotted away. As things progressed, I began to assume, like Newland Archer, that my fate was to be determined by a fish - if Akbar pulled through and successfully shed the fungus, I would be making a change. If, however, he went belly up, I'd remain in my current situation.

I found Akbar floating yesterday morning, the same day I called HR and learned that the position I was to interview for had a starting wage HALF what I am currently earning. This meant that the top of the scale for the job was likely to be several dollars an hour less than what I am currently earning. There was no way I could work more hours and bring home less money.

So I am resolved to remain a Home Infusion Coordinator for now. I will be changing my schedule after Labor Day and working Wednesday through Saturday, and Mary Ann and I will split call differently so that, at least, I will always have my "weekend" call free. As I am long past worrying about partying and clubbing on Friday or Saturday nights, it makes no mind that my weekend will actually be Sunday, Monday & Tuesday (Monday & Tuesday will always be call free).

How can my mood change with the death of one little fish? I told you, I'm an English Major.

Peace.