A Spricket Named Spencer #ew

Do you know what a spricket is?  Even though I am about to embark on a blog about sprickets, I am not even completely sure what one is.  Hold on a sec, while I go to Google and Wikipedia to look the subject up. Before I do that, though, I came across this picture on Facebook this morning.

Right on!  I did college without a word processor!  I did calculus with only a Texas Instrument calculator.  It had flashy, red, digital numbers.  And, I had a social life without texting, Facebook or Twitter.  So you’d better respect your grandparents as well.  If they were lucky enough to finish high school and go to college, they went without a typewriter and without a Texas Instrument calculator.  They did some good, old-fashioned  book learnin’.  They used an abacus, a slide rule and did a lot of comparing between apples and oranges.  You wouldn’t be sitting here reading this blog, if they didn’t have a social life. 

Now I’ve completely gone off track.  Do you know what a spricket is?  Hold on…….

Ok, got it – here is a picture of one. Ew, right?

There is even a Facebook page for Spricket Haters. I see that my daughter Jacey, is a fan. That’s a little bit surprising since Jacey claims that there is one that lives in her house in Bloomington, Indiana.  She tells me that his name is Spencer.  She tells me Spencer does not pay rent.  Who knew?  Spencer and Jacey have something in common. 

So where am I going with this?  It’s hard to keep on task when you’re writing your first blog.  I wanted to point out that I had never heard of sprickets before Jacey moved to Indiana.  I always thought of myself as knowledgeable when it came to common critters, being a Minnesotan and all.  They are probably common up here for all I know.  I hope not. 

According to Wikipedia:

The orthopteran family Rhaphidophoridae includes the cave weta, cave crickets, camelback crickets, camel crickets, spider crickets(sometimes called "criders, or sprickets"^{[citation needed]}) and sand treaders, of the suborder Ensifera; in some regions, such as Missouri and Virginia, these crickets are referred to as "Cricket Spiders"^{[citation needed]}. Those occurring in New Zealand, Australia, and Tasmania are typically referred to asweta. Most are found in association with caves, animal burrows, cellars, under stones, in wood or in similar environments. They are characterized in part by their long antennae and legs. They may be found on all continents and many continental islands, though Africa has but one species and that is confined to the southern Cape region. The well-known field crickets are from a different superfamily (Grylloidea) and only look vaguely similar, while members of the family Tettigoniidae may look superficially similar in body form.
[edit]Description

Camel cricketCave crickets have very large hind legs with "drumstick-shaped" femora, and long, slender antennae. The antennae arise closely and next to each other on the head. They are brownish in color and rather humpbacked in appearance, always wingless, and up to two inches/5 cm long in body and 10 cm (4 inches) for the legs. The bodies of baby crickets may appear translucent. As the name implies, cave crickets are commonly found in caves. However, most species live in other cool, damp situations such as in wells, rotten logs, stumps and hollow trees, and under damp leaves, stones, boards, and logs. Occasionally, they prove to be a nuisance in the basements of homes in suburban areas. Some reach into alpine areas and live close to permanent ice — the Mount Cook "flea" and its relatives in New Zealand.
Their distinctive limbs and antennae serve a double purpose. Typically living in a lightless environment, or active at night, they rely heavily on their sense of touch, which is limited by reach. While they have been known to take up residence in the basements of buildings, many cave crickets live out their entire lives deep inside actual caves. In those habitats they sometimes face long spans of time with insufficient access to nutrients. To avoid starvation, they have been known to devour their own extremities, even though they cannot regenerate limbs. Given their limited vision, cave crickets will often jump towards any perceived threat in an attempt to frighten it away. Although they look intimidating, they are completely harmless.[1]Cave and camel crickets are of little economic importance except as a nuisance in buildings and homes, especially basements. They are usually "accidental invaders" that wander in by mistake from adjacent areas. They generally reproduce indoors, especially in situations that provide continuous dark, moist conditions, such as a basement shower or laundry area, as well as organic debris to serve as food.The group known as "sand treaders" are restricted to sand dunes, however, and are adapted to live in this environment. They are active only at night, and spend the day burrowed into the sand, to minimize water loss. In the large sand-dunes of California and Utah they serve as food for scorpions.

So, did you read it?  I didn’t.  Not all of it, anyway.  Did you touch the spricket pictures?  I didn’t.  (I never, ever touched the pictures of snakes in the World Book encyclopedia either.  Never.  Ever.)  


The bottom line is that sprickets are some mutant spider/ cricket combo, and I don’t want any part of that meal deal.  The one thing that I want you take away from this blog is that these humped- back aliens have a skillful self-defense mechanism.  It’s downright nasty.  If you see one, and you try to shoo it away or smash it with a Glamour magazine, it will jump toward YOU to frighten YOU away.  Oh sure, they are completely harmless, but so are night crawlers and garter snakes and aphids.  Harmless to your psyche?  Don’t be fooled. 

Jacey lives in an old Victorian home in Indiana where Rhaphidophoridae thrive in her basement and laundry room.  This can only be described as scary.   The basement is scary for obvious reasons, and the laundry room for the sheer number of bras and thong underwear strewn on the floor, the washer and the laundry tub water spigots.  She has five female roommates (congratulations to all who recently graduated from Indiana University). 

I think Bloomington, Indiana is somewhere along Tornado Alley.  I think Minnesota is too.  At least the cities of Fridley, or Anoka, lie in the Minnesota alley. 

For crying out loud, how do I keep getting away from the subject here?  This is not easy, gentle reader.  Stay with me. 

Anyway, I know that severe weather is common in Indiana.  Jacey’s house has a storm cellar.  It’s outside of the house and has those big doors that open up from the ground.  It is a Wizard of Oz bunker.  I was relieved to know that her house had a cellar before she moved in.   Recently, there was a tornado outbreak down there and I checked in with Jacey to make sure she was headed for shelter.  “Are you heading to your cellar, Jacey?,”  I asked.  “No, Mom, I’m fine, I’m at a neighbor’s house,” she calmly replied.  “Why not the basement or the cellar room at your house?,”  I asked.  I half expected her to reply that their basement was so ‘boring,’ and that the neighbors (senior frat boys) just decided to start a party now that five beautiful girls magically showed up in their living room. 

“Mom, I’d die of total fright if I had to go down our cellar. There’s a million sprickets down there, and they would just jump on me.  I’d rather die in a tornado.  Besides, I’m not gonna die in a tornado, because I can just go over to the neighbors,” she explained. 

Silly girl, I thought. 

Until, I visited her house. 

After a tour of the house, I asked to see the storm cellar.  There is a kind of rural charm to them, right?   I mean, people are actually building them again after the rash of tornado outbreaks around the country.  I wanted to see it.

Jacey pulled up the weathered wooden doors, surrounded by tender hostas, bright daisies and vibrant irises.  The Indiana sun flooded the cement walls and stairs with daylight.  The walls and stairs were literally pulsing with sprickets as big as my hand.  (I have large hands.  You need to know this). 

We were looking down into the mouth of hell. 

We screamed.  We slammed the doors shut.  We reviewed her alternate storm plan. 

She graduated with honors from the IU school of Journalism that day. 


Smart girl, I thought.  I am so proud of her.