A Honey Bee Speaks

Who, me? Yeah, I’m a European honey bee. That’s Apis mellifera to you, pal.

Uh, yeah, I happen to live in California. And…? You got a problem with that?

Oh, I see. I’m not a California native bee. Well, excuuuuse me. What’s so great about “native” bees? Just a bunch of losers, if you ask me.

You really want to know? Okay, I’ll tell you. First of all, they don’t even live in hives like normal bees. And did you know that some of these so-called “bees” actually live underground for God’s sake? What kind of a bee lives in the ground? By itself? A weirdo bee, that’s who.

And don’t even get me started on honey. You know they don’t make honey, don’t you? I mean, what’s the point? Can you even call yourself a bee if you don’t make honey?

Oh, really? There are 1,600 species of bees native to California? Ooh, fun fact! And they’re important pollinators? Sounds like a waste of perfectly good pollen to me. What else you got?

A single European beehive collects as much pollen as you’d need to support 100,000 native bees? And scientific studies have demonstrated that European honey bees are crowding out the poor, widdle native bees?

Okay, hold it right there. You happen to be talking to an “important pollinator.” And as for crowding out those pathetic, little wimps, I have two words for you: Boo. Hoo.

And since you’re such an expert, Mr. Pointy-Head, I’m sure you know that European honey bees arrived on the West Coast of North America back in 1853. Yeah, we came by boat, all the way from New York. Okay, so it’s not exactly the Mayflower, but come on – it’s not like we just got here. European honey bees have been in California for over 170 years! So don’t whine to me about ruining the neighborhood, okay?

And by the way, did you know that if it wasn’t for European honey bees, you could kiss California’s $50 billion agriculture industry goodbye? And I’m not talking honey. I’m talking orchards – you know, all those almond trees in the Central Valley…? Well, how do you think they get all those almond blossoms pollinated in the middle of fucking nowhere? Of course they have to import hives every year – by the truckload, I might add.

Actually, if you like almond blossoms, the buzz is that it’s not a bad gig up there. (Haha. “Buzz.” Get it?) But let me tell you, there is nothing else to pollinate up there. Almonds, almonds, almonds, as far as the compound eye can see.

Yeah, well don’t look at me. I’m not the one who pulled everything else up. “Monoculture”? I swear, you and your five dollar words. What the hell is a monoculture?

Oh, is that so? Well, of course they do. You need lots of almond trees if you want to make money. No room for anything else. Duh.

Yeah, sure. They do have to move us somewhere else when the almonds are done flowering for the year. Score one for you, Pointy. Well, so what if a lot of bees get sick and die from being shlepped from one orchard to another and thrown together with a bunch of other bees from God-only-knows-where? Yeah, I know that when honey bees get sick we can pass it on to the weirdo bees. So? I mean, it’s not exactly like there aren’t enough of them to go around.

Oh yeah? Who says Crotch’s Bumblebee is only one of several native bees threatened with extinction? The California Supreme Court? Oh. Well, what the hell do they know about bees?

Colony Collapse Disorder? Another hoax. Pesticide residues? Nah, not a problem, either. Sounds like fake news.

Oh, okay, here we go. Yeah, and what about water? It takes one gallon of water to produce a single almond? Wowie kazowie! Uh huh, and it takes a bazillion, imported European honey bees, too. Look – do you want that latte with almond milk, or not?

And while I’ve got your attention: for the love of God, would you please stop pulling up all those scrumdiddlyumptious, imported weeds in your garden? Why? Because – HELLO – I’m a European honey bee. And that doesn’t mean I enjoy lighting up a Gitanes after my plateau de fromage. It means I loves me some European weeds, baby! You could say I’m drawn to them. You know, comfort food.

Yeah, I know that by pollinating European weeds I’m helping to spread them. That’s the whole point, dumbass. Look, I’m a generalist pollinator. Proud of it. I can pollinate just about anything. It’s not my fault so many of those so-called “bees” are “specialist pollinators” who think they’re too good for weeds. “Oh, I’m sooo special! I can only pollinate plants with which I’ve co-evolved for eons. Waaa!” Give me a fucking break.

Oh, yeah? Planting local native plants is the single most important thing a gardener can do to support California’s struggling native bee population? So? Go ahead and plant “local” natives, whatever the fuck that’s supposed to mean. Knock yourself out. Use your goddamn zip code, for all I care.

Look, I’d gladly pollinate those candy-ass, native Lupines in your garden, too – if I could just figure out how to get into the damn things. And those skinny little Scarlet Buglers? Hah! No way I’m going to squeeze my big, fat, European bee ass into one of those!

You know, come to think of it, much as I love all those weeds in your garden, you should really think about putting in some Mediterraneans. You know, a few lavender bushes here and there, maybe a rosemary. Hey! I know! How about a lemon tree?

You what? You only plant California native plants? Huh. Well, no wonder your garden sucks.

But seriously, Pointy – just one, teeny-tiny lemon tree. And while you’re at it, could you make it a Eureka?

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