While I’m on the subject: isn’t it weird that the L.A. Zoo uses a song about–as my husband so genteelly puts it–a “borderline pedophile” to accompany the rotations of its Conservation Carousel? OK, maybe that’s a bit melodramatic. Still. It seems an odd choice. Methinks somebody’s not listening to the lyrics very closely…

I also wish to clarify. The version of “Don’t Stand So Close To Me” they play isn’t the muzak one. Not technically. It’s Sting’s cloying, soporific, superslow, keening and wailing remake. It just feels like muzak. And/or waterboarding.

Finally, I wish to add one more thing to my list of complaints. Who builds a zoo on a mountainside? Or–OK–an extremely steep hill. Still. It’s brutal. And that’s during the winter months. In the summer it’s just cruel and unusual. There’s no shade. (Other than in the gift shops — infernal design). The exhibits are miles apart. And that’s when you get to them. The area one has to traverse to even arrive at the first one is so vast it should have its own zip code. Or just be called Mount Everest. One is so exhausted by the time one gets to the first measly duck that the whole “animal thing” feels largely beside the point. What you really want to see is a medic. Or a Sherpa.

Combine this with the ubiquitous strollers, punishing sun and the yellowjacket infestation I haven’t yet mentioned and you get–

Why, a place we have a family membership to, of course.