It started on Saturday, when my daughter, who is in in Switzerland, told me that at a local music festival there, a booth in the food court offered roasted crickets. (Other options at the stand included fried larvae, but Elizabeth sensibly chose cotton candy.)
Then, on Monday, my friend Abby told me that there was a cricket duo in her bedroom, lodged in a wall unit, driving her insane. They chirped every thirty minutes or so, disturbing her sleep, but she’d been unable to find, let alone exterminate them.
What happened next was that, yesterday, I bought an iPhone, which, it turns out, has a “Crickets” ring tone option. (I didn’t dare install it: if Abby hears that ring she’ll snap spray the phone with Raid.) Read More