The white dorsal line means this is a female. No dewlap.
By Tom Poland, A Southern Writer
TomPoland.net
I called it a green lizard. I couldn’t pronounce Anolis carolinensis back then. Heck, I hadn’t even heard of the term. But now something catches me flatfooted — I’m told little girls wore lizards as earrings in my day. Live lizards dangling from each lobe. Holding on for dear life with tiny teeth.
I tip my hat here to the bravery of little girls down South. Wearing live green lizards from the ears, you see, is a Southern thing, but across the world folks have long been wearing live things. Maquech beetles in Mexico. Scarabs in Egypt. Even roach brooches.
As with so many things in life, lizards as earrings required mastery of a certain technique. My hometown friend and knower of all things Southern, Abbevillian Ronnie Myers, shared the technique with me. He never tried it by the way. He just knew kids who did.
“If you hold their mouths close to your earlobes, they will latch on to the lobes and hang there a while. Word to the wise, use only small ones because the big adult ones have really strong jaws.”
There, the technique is public knowledge now. Maybe some Florida Gator gals will give it a go. Perhaps the lizards will change hue to match that Gator-green T-shirt. And what about this ability to change color?
Seems a lizard’s magical color change comes down to stress, temperature, social signaling, and mood. You tell me. Is there anything moodier than a human? How much easier life would be if people couldn’t help but change color when in some emotional state. How nice for a color change to betray mood, stress level, and intent. That might solve a few problems. A jealous man turns green when his wife talks to a handsome lad . . . A lady seeking a suitor might change to pink or hot red. You get the idea.
We’re moving in that direction. I see edgy “with it” women and men flaunting green, pink, and purple hair. Dangling color-changing reptiles from their ears ought to be right up their alley. Maybe wear a green snake as a belt? Rig up their nose like some raging bull, wear a roach brooch, left side only, put some fire ants in their pants and dance like mad with their pre-paid, pre-printed posters as they protest animal cruelty. Wearing lizards sure sounds like a fad perfect for the elite avant-garde who gladly show us poor country bumpkins the next big thing.
I remember simpler times when Mom would coax a male green lizard to “show his penny.” Out came that red “penny” known as a dewlap. And what is a dewlap? A fold of loose skin hanging from the neck or throat of an unfortunate person. Humans don’t generally like a dewlap, aka turkey neck. So, you pink-haired fashionistas don’t add a dewlap to your look. Then again, you just might find that pretty cool. It’s different and so are you. I live in the past. I’d never wear a lizard.
Green lizards and summer made me happy. I recall eating red plums. Digging red worms for bait. Pretending red-top clover was strawberries, and green maypops were tiny watermelons. I spent my summer days where canna lilies bloomed and yellow Sulphur and blue butterflies ringed red clay mudholes. Not to be outdone those changeable, little lizards of green would turn tan or dark gray. When the male revealed its cherry-red “penny,” the little critters brought a bit more color into my life. Not once did I see the little green critters as a fashion trend, not that it is, but in this crazy world it very well could be. And it probably will be.
