When I was a kid, I had a
favorite song. This song is old and
rather obscure, and my sister and I came across it in an old elementary school
music book that my grandmother, a retired teacher, gave to us. A little research claims this song started as
a sailors’ sea shanty in about 1898, and there are several versions of the
lyrics, some a little more risqué than others, but this is the version I
remember:
I went to the Animal Fair
The birds and the beasts were there
The big baboon
By the light of the moon
Was combing his auburn hair
You should’ve seen the monk
He sat on the elephant’s trunk
The elephant sneezed
And fell to his knees
And that was the end of the monk, the monk, the monk
This song comes back to me
when a childhood friend and I visit York’s Wild Animal Kingdom. I like zoos, but for some reason I still
cannot explain, I’ve never been to this one nor taken my kids there when they
were age-appropriate. It’s only an hour
north of here, and it’s on the way to my sister’s house. I’ve driven by the park in the winter when it
was silently dusted with snow, but that’s as close as I’ve been.
As soon as we arrive and
park in the free lot, we can hear one of the howler monkeys. If you’ve ever seen the live-action version
of The Jungle Book, starring Jason
Scott Lee, then you’ll know exactly what I mean when I say, “King Louie.” It is as if the movie plays out somewhere
inside the walls of the zoo.
The zoo is a bit of a
labyrinth, and we walk in what seems to be circles until I realize the animals I
am encountering are ones I have not yet seen.
We feed ducks and goats and deer, allowing the animals to come right up
to us and munch straight from our hands.
The goats are the boldest, the large ones pushing the little goat kids
aside, so we trick them by holding our feeding cups in the air to attract their
attention while leaning down with handfuls of feed for the babies.
We meet up with my friend’s
daughter, and the three of us make a game out of tossing food into the pond
from a walk-bridge, causing duck feeding frenzies right where the paddle-boats
are trying to come through. Attached to
the zoo is a small park with kids’ rides and arcades. One of the girls running the blaster game sings
us a hearty song, a carnival shanty of her own device, to attract gamers. The park is humming with activity, and I
again marvel as to why I have never been here.
The park is open at either
end, one entrance at the parking lot, the other spilling into York Beach center
with its shops and old-style hotels. The
purple wristband allows us to come and go as we please, so we grab some lunch
and hit Short Sands Beach for a couple of hours, chatting, swimming, and acting
like the rest of the tourists. On our
return trip through York’s Wild Animal Kingdom, my friend completes her ALS Ice
Bucket Challenge right there along the mini golf course, around the corner from
the haunted house ride and within view of the balloon dart game. It’s classic, and she has a small audience
while we film her moment.
Before we wrap it up for
the day, we make one more pass through part of the zoo and visit King Louie
again. He is no longer howling. Instead, he is spread out on a branch, quite
content to be showing the gawkers his rear-end.
Apparently the howling is a morning thing. As soon as we reach the car, King Louie lets
out one last whoop, as if he knows we are leaving and he feels badly about not
saying goodbye, as if he is answering that age old query, “And that was the end of
the monk, the monk, the monk?”
