Performing a Hookectomy

  Removing a Hook from a Fish’s Mouth

I in these flowery meads would be:

These crystal streams should solace me;

To whose harmonious bubbling noise

I with my Angle would rejoice:…….The Compleat Angler, Izaak Walton

 

The Compleat Angler by Izaak Walton (1593 – 1683), published in London in 1653 is a practical guide to the art of angling, aka fishing. Encyclopedia Brittanica describes the book as “a pastoral discourse on the joys and stratagems of fishing that has been one of the most frequently reprinted books in English literature”. The nominal plot involves Piscator (a fisherman), Venator (a hunter), and Auceps (a falconer) discussing the merits of their pastimes.  Thank goodness there was no Pickle Ball player present. Auceps, a defender of hawking, drops out of the story early and leaves his companions at Theobald’s (located about twelve miles from London).  A conversation between the fisherman, Piscator and Venator, a lover of hounds and hunting, commences as Piscator (Pisces…the fish) convinces Venator to accompany him for several days of fishing. The bulk of the work then proceeds to practical advice to fishermen, as told by Piscator - about such topics as bait and fishing equipment; the habits of different kinds of fish; and methods of catching and cooking various fish. Piscator, clearly Walton himself, aims to teach the Venator the noble art of fishing and how to catch the various species of fish in the local rivers. Like Chapter 32, Cetology, in Moby Dick a section that goes into excruciatingly minute details about whales, the Compleat Angler can also be occasionally long winded, notably a prolonged section which describes various artificial flies used for catching trout and how these should be made - with which feathers, threads and other materials. Alas, Piscator does not discuss how to remove a hook from a fish’s mouth. 

 

I have never taken a hook out of a fish’s mouth. Yes, I’ve never performed what I now refer to as a “hookectomy.”   Never.  I tried fishing when I was around 11 years old with my Uncle Danny. Uncle Danny was an avid angler and took me only that once. Why?  I, city boy, could not bring myself to put a worm on a hook.  I wouldn’t even touch the worm.  Never progressed to hook removal. God knows what he told my parents.  I was not asked me to go fishing again. I don’t even eat fish for that matter.  All of my friends here in Lake in the Clouds love fish and fishing. Good for them. Most of the contractors who come to our home to do work ask about the fishing in the lake. I tell them it is great. They ask if I fish.  I tell them no.  I get strange looks. 

 

“Carpe Diem does not mean fish of the day”……Unknown………

This brings me to our six-year-old grandson, Gavin.  Last year at age five, Gavin indicated an interest in fishing while visiting Margaret and I here in the Poconos. I agreed to take him down to our dock and do some fishing with some ancient fishing poles that had been in our shed for 20 years. Since I had never put a worm on a hook, (see reference to “Uncle Danny), I had no intention of doing so now. I convinced Gavin that fish liked bread, so we put small pieces of bread on the hook.  I had no problem doing so and we “fished”.  Surprisingly, the fish were not attracted to the bread. The bread would deteriorate to mush, fall off the hook and we would put another piece on. Being five, his attention span was about 15 minutes before getting bored and deciding he would rather fish with the scrub brush which we usually used to clean our pedal boat. It has a 2-foot handle.  He caught nothing.  He asked if we could fish from the pedal boat.  So, off we went with me pedaling and steering and Gavin trailing the scrub brush in the water.  He caught two water lilies but no fish.  We returned to shore.  “The fishing was good; it was the catching that was bad”……….A.K Best.  

 

Shockingly, despite the lack of action, he was still interested in fishing.  I was still not interested in extracting a hook from a fish’s mouth.  He’s smart. He asked if we could use a bait other than wheat bread.  Being a good grandfather, I agreed to find some.  I did not mention worms, live or otherwise. Nope, no worms. I checked Amazon (where else) and found fake maggots.  They are tiny little white things about ¼ inch long.  You can buy hundreds for a few dollars.  See the picture of “Maggot Man” I constructed above.  Did I mention that our fishing poles were broken. They would neither cast a line nor reel it in.  Gavin didn’t care.  I didn’t care either but I mentioned this to our neighbor, Bill, an avid and expert angler. Bill offered to not only repair the poles but to take Gavin and the gang out on his fishing boat for some real (reel?) fishing. I had no issue with this as I would be absolved from the task of taking a hook out of a fish’s mouth should we actually catch a fish.  Unfortunately, the fish were not hungry that day, so we completed our cruise empty handed and hook free.   The following day it was time for Gavin and his parents (our son, Brian, and our daughter-in-law, Lisa,) to return home to Ohio. I promised Gavin I would bring a fishing pole and the maggots to Kettering on our next visit.  “Fishing is boring unless you catch an actual fish, and then it is disgusting.” —Dave Barry

 

A few weeks later, we arrived in Ohio and by the end of the first day, Gavin had asked several times about fishing.  I had brought the ersatz maggots and agreed that we would go fishing the next day. There is a town lake about 10 minutes from their home and so off we went.  We had called Roger, his other grandfather who lives 10 minutes away, to meet us there.  Roger had experience fishing so I was confident that he could take any captured fish off the hook.  In the event, the phony maggots did their job and we caught nothing.  I tried to act disappointed.  I didn’t know that you have to push this little white button on the fishing rod to release the line and cast out a few feet. We had told Gavin that the “bait” should be moving in order to attract fish and he soon decided that running back and forth on the pier with the fishing line trailing in the water would do the job.  Still no fish but although his attention waned, his enthusiasm for fishing did not.  Luckily, it rained the next day and I convinced him that fish stay at the bottom of the lake when it rains so that they don’t get wetter. Hey, he’s five. it sounded correct but I was completely wrong.  Fish may come to the surface more when it is raining, and fish are typically more active when the conditions are cloudy than very sunny.

 

Now six, Gavin and family arrived last week.  “The charm of fishing is that it is the pursuit of what is elusive but attainable, a perpetual series of occasions for hope.”

John Buchan……………My hope was that Gavin would not catch a fish.

The first thing he asked was……guess.  Fortunately, bogus maggots have no shelf life, and I still had a few hundred or so. The next day we went down to our dock and commenced to fishing.  It was just Gavin and I as everyone else was in the house.  Our friend, Bill, had shown me the proper method for casting the fishing line by now and I was able to show Gavin how to cast. He learned quickly and became quite competent.  I was supremely confident that we would catch nothing with our counterfeit maggots as experience indicated that they wouldn’t work.  I was wrong. Within five minutes, Gavin shouted “I’ve caught a fish!”. So he had. The round floaty (bobber) thing had disappeared under the water and was swimming back and forth. My worst fishing nightmare had come true. There was no one there to help me.  Of course, I had to pretend I knew how to get the hook out of the thing’s mouth.  I was the adult in the room, or dock as it were.  Gavin reeled it in and there at the end of the line was a sunfish.  I looked around for something to hold the fish while I attempted to remove the hook.  Gavin kept exclaiming “I caught a fish!  “Look! A fish!”  After a few attempts at putting the fish back in the water….perhaps it would spit the hook out on its own……the fish was still at the end of the line. It was now very still.  Was it still alive? Gavin suggested we fill a small bucket with water and put the fish in it.  We lowered the still very still fish into the bucket.  Suddenly it started thrashing and splashing around.  Gavin yelled and ran to the back of the dock. To my shame, I was right behind him.  

Fortunately, looking in our storage box at that end of the dock (the fish had quieted down by now), I found a butterfly net that Gavin had also used in futile attempts to catch fish.  Note, he had also used it for chasing chipmunks.  The butterfly net would reasonably keep material between my hand and the fish, so I wrapped my hand in it and returned to our captive. By now our shouts had alerted the folks in the house. Margaret and Lisa came down to see and photograph this Hemingwayesque (see The Old Man and the Sea), great accomplishment. Using the net, I grasped the fish, still quiet, held it with my left hand and somehow, I really don’t know how, the hook came out of the fish’s mouth as I tried to maneuver the hook.  It was my first hookectomy! We lowered the stunned and no doubt traumatized, but still alive creature, into the water and released it.  It swam, hurriedly, away.  I was mentally exhausted.  Post angling, I wondered if the fish could hear all the yelling and commotion.  I was to discover that unlike us humans, fish hear using an inner ear located inside the brain cavity, just behind the eyes. There's no need for an outer ear, as the fish's body is about the same density as the water, and so sounds travel through the water, the fish, to its ear. Nothing about when dangling at the end of a fishing line though.  Beyond that, fish ears are, in many ways, similar to the ears in mammals; in fact, the ear first appeared in fish hundreds of millions of years ago, and later ears evolved to work on mammals. To put fish earing abilities in perspective, a teenage human can ideally hear sounds from about 20 Hz to 20,000 Hz. Most fish, both in freshwater and salt, detect sound from 40 Hz up to 500 or 1,000 Hz. So not only was the fish dazed, it was probably deafened by all the yelling.  Flushed with success, Gavin, now wanted to “go out in the boat and fish”.   Can a grandfather say no?  Into the pedal boat we went and out on the lake we went.  Sure enough, minutes later, and way, way too soon if you ask me, the imitation maggot struck again.  We caught another fish.  By now I considered myself proficient at hook mining so after we admired our catch as I’ve seen fishermen do as I have observed from our dock:

1. Hold it up and look at it 

2. If it is large, measure it. 

3. If it is really large, take a picture. 

4. Perform hookectomy and 

5.Release the fish back into the water.  

I placed my hand in the butterfly net for the hookectomy.  It was then that I discovered that sunfish have very sharp dorsal fins.  It felt like several sharp needles sticking me in the palm of my hand.  I dropped the fish…..in the water. Evidently one should grasp the fish by the underside.  Being a fast learner, I put my hand back in the butterfly net but now grabbed the fish by the other side and extracted the hook. Jiggling seems to be a good methodology.  The fish swam away.  Gavin still wanted to fish but mercifully, for me and the fish, we caught no more. We pedaled back to the dock and Bill, the fisherman, was there.  He had seen us in action out on the lake and brought more “bait”.  Bill, a good friend, presented us with “Berkley PowerBait” and “Gary Yamamoto Custom Baits”, all of which were quite large, several inches large.  I immediately thought of the monsters we would catch with these giant things and the accordingly giant mouths that I would have to stick my hand in to remove hooks from.  We thanked him for his thoughtfulness. Secretly I was determined to keep using the faux maggots.  Gavin, Brian, and Lisa spent most of the next two days at Lego Land and upon their return he wanted to _________fill in the blank. Fortuitously, there were several six-year-old activities to engage in, playgrounds, a visit to Callie’s Candy Kitchen (I had him practicing saying Callie’s Candy Kitchen fast three times), indoor arcades and outdoor rides to distract him.  In between, the maggots did their job and we failed to catch anything although Gavin was persistent, as only a 6-year-old can be, in his efforts to convince me to use Bill’s gargantuan bait.  

Sadly, the visit came to an end and Gavin, Brian and Lisa returned to Ohio along with a lifetime supply of imitation maggots, several large ersatz “worms”, courtesy of Bill and a ventilated “bug box” containing a caterpillar Gavin named “Crawly”, leaving Margaret and I thoroughly exhausted.  It serves us right as Gavin thinks that we are also six years old and we behave accordingly.  This includes much rough housing and chasing around the house. With them gone, I will hope that Gavin forgets about Bill’s ginormous bait and I will return Bill’s mutant monsters to him.  Taking his advice, I will now keep an old dish towel in the dock storage box to assist with future hookectomies. I also looked up “how to remove a hook from a fish’s mouth” technique on the Internet.   Yes, I know I should have done that prior to our fishing expeditions but I was convinced that the fake maggots would do their job. 

Wiki How has a multi-step guide o removing a hook from a fish’s mouth

·      “Reel the fish in until you can grab it with your hand.” No, I am not going to grab that slimy thing with my hand. 

·      “Hold the fish firmly so that it cannot wriggle free.” No, see reaction above.

·      “Use a barbless circle hook, not a "J" hook” Well, we had a barbed hook that had probably been on that line for 20 years and I didn’t have anything else so forget that advice. 

·      “Pull a hook straight out of a fish's lip”.  See barbed hook above

·      They then go on to what to do if the fish swallows the hook. Once I saw “pincers” and then, “disgorger”, I stopped reading. 

 

The gang left early on a Friday morning.  The house felt empty.  We missed them. Having fished more than I ever fished in my life, I now had a break from fishing at least for a few weeks. No more pseudo maggots for a while. No more fish catching angst. No more hook removal angst. So that should be it. 

But it wasn’t. Later that evening around 7ish, after we had a well-deserved (large) glass of wine, there was a knock at our door. It was a man, woman, and boy of around ten. They live just down the road and across the street from us.  Although other than saying passing “hellos”, we had never spoken to them.  They said “hello”.  We said “hello”. The man pointed to his head and asked me if I could get a fish hook out of his head.....Really.........Of all the people in the world to turn to. Of all the people who had been traumatized by performing a hookectomy..........Evidently, they had been fishing. The boy had been casting for fish, he missed the water and now the hook was now embedded in his father’s scalp. They didn't know what to do.  We had no idea what to do either but we invited them in, and Margaret and I examined the hook buried in the back of his head.  Clearly, I could not use the old dish towel to hold his head and remove the hook. Fortunately, the man had a crew cut so the hook was easily located.   That sucker was stuck in there. In one place and out another place.  We asked if it hurt.  He said, “a little”. They did not know about Urgent Care near us.  While Margaret tried calling our other fishermen neighbors (Bill was on an Alaska cruise), to no avail, I donned surgical gloves, and armed with a hand lens and hydrogen peroxide, went in for a closer examination.  Then, we switched, Margaret did the examination and I tried to ascertain if Urgent Care was still open. Our fishing expert friends/neighbors were, alas, still unavailable.  We left messages. While we were running back and forth figuring out how to perform a scalpal hookectomy, Margaret was back making phone calls. I didn't think he would appreciate my successful jiggling method of fish hook removal.  I was in the surgical gloves and the gentleman had his finger next to the hook.  Somehow between his finger moving and my surgical gloves gently pushing, the hook came out!  I’m not sure who was the most relieved, him, his wife, his son, Margaret or me.  We didn’t know how we did it.  But it was out. We bathed the wound with more hydrogen peroxide and give them the bottle of the stuff advising them to keep watching the very small cut. We gave them some drinking water, hookectomies can be thirsty work, and I gave the boy a giant pretzel.  Very grateful, they left. We had another glass of wine. Then our friends returned our phone calls. As expected, they all had experience in human hookecectomies.  Evidently fishermen sink their hooks into other fishermen more than one would think. Each explained how to remove a hook from a human.  All described it as a simple process. I think I’ll remember it the next time someone comes to our door with a fishhook stuck in his head. The next morning, as I was watering the flowers in our garden, his wife came by while walking their dog to say thank you.  She had found the Urgent Care we described but he was healing nicely and there were no after affects.

Two days later, I was speaking with my sister, Mary, who lives in California.  I described the hook adventures and accompanying angst.  She, like everyone else, couldn’t believe I had never removed a hook from a fish’s mouth.  Evidently, she had fished with “Uncle Danny” and was an experienced hookectomyist. She had performed several hook removals in her life.  In fact, everyone to whom I related this story, and possibly most of the people on the planet Earth had at some time performed a hookectomy on a fish. As noted some had even extracted hooks from human fingers, hands, arms, feet, legs……….. but I, heretofore totally inexperienced in performing a hookectomy had successfully removed a fish hook from someone’s head. Yet, I remain humble. 

 

 

 

 

That’s My Spot, aka, The Territorial Imperative

But I Always Sit There

 

“That is my spot, in an ever-changing world, it is a single point of consistency”……….Sheldon, The Big Bang Theory. 

 

We took a wonderful river cruise on the Danube via Amawaterways from Vilshofen, Germany to Budapest, Hungary. Everything about the cruise was superb, especially the food. In fact, when people ask about the cruise, I go into a detailed description of the meals even before describing beautiful cities like Vienna or Prague or Budapest.  We were a party of six and at dinner the first night we sat at a circular table for six in a corner in front of the floor to ceiling window in the large dining room.  Delicious food and great views from appetizers through dessert. Dessert was a religious experience. Normally, we are not dessert eaters but good grief! These were good.  See?  I’m getting carried away about the food and neglecting the “Territorial Imperative”. There were no reservations for tables on the 150-passenger ship. We know it was a ship because the crew kept reminding us “you can put a boat on a ship but you can’t put a ship on a boat”. We sat at the same table the second night and enjoyed it so much that we sat there for breakfast the following morning, again for lunch and yet again for dinner. And then on the 3^rd evening…………Sacre Blu! When we arrived for dinner, someone was sitting at OUR table!  Yes, it was now OUR TABLE. Worse, there were only three of them at a table for six!  The nerve! At another table, truth be told, it was another corner table for six with the same window views, we had the expected delicious dinner, drinks and, yes, dessert but there were occasional glances (glares?) at those trespassers.  Our waiter kept tabs on the intruders also. He wondered why we were not at “our table”. This called for a plan of action for the future.  This was not going to happen again! The strategy was simple as it involved one of us getting to the dining room as it opened at 6 p.m. - just when Happy Hour ended - and walking three steps out of the door of the lounge and into the dining room and claiming OUR table via the Territorial Imperative while the rest of us finished our drinks.  We also had the same table at breakfasts because apparently, it was not in high demand for those meals. Thus, we had OUR table for the rest of the cruise and yes, we all sat in the same seats at the table after the 2^nd night. Sadly, our cruise came to an end on a Saturday morning, and we spent the day touring Budapest (beautiful city), and flew home on a Monday. When we got home and looked at pictures posted on the Amawaterways Facebook site, the next cruise had already begun.  Someone posted pictures of themselves, and they were sitting at OUR table with OUR wait staff and someone was in MY seat.  Yeesh! I thought they would encase our table in glass for exhibition purposes because we were such fabulous guests. We had no right to that table when the cruise began but by day two it was “our” table.  Why?

 

The idea for this essay came from Margaret and her friends discussing what I call “spot placement “at fitness classes. The term, "territorial imperative" came to mind.  Research indicated that Robert Ardrey, first coined the phrase ‘Territorial Imperative’ in his 1966 book which just happens to be titled, The Territorial Imperative.  Ardrey defines it as 'an area of space, whether water, earth or air which an animal defends as an exclusive preserve'. University of Victoria psychology professor Robert Gifford adds, “Most of the time most people claim a space and others tacitly agree to it.”

 

Margaret said that when someone hasn’t shown up for a few classes, people notice and ask each other if they know what happened to that person.  “Who?” others say.  “You know, the short lady with the long blond hair.”  No one remembers her.  Then, someone points to the spot where she always sits – behind Ruth.  “Oh, her.” See? She is identified by “her spot”.

 

We humans like routine.  We will gravitate to the same spot/place in a higher education class, a fitness class, exercise machines in the gym, pew in church, seats on excursion buses or tours, restaurants or cafes (when us “guys” go out to breakfast at our favorite breakfast cafe, we always sit at the same table), seats in a bar, tables on a river cruise, conference rooms, seats on a commuter train (advice, do not try this on a New York City subway train or bus), even unassigned parking spots.  Most (all?) of us will choose a seat or a table or a spot when we begin that class, or fitness class, or gym exercise machine and try for the same one, same routine, every day and then one day……….just as its time for your favorite elliptical, a stranger is using YOUR elliptical. 

 

Why? The frontal lobes of your brain get it started.  It probably comes as no surprise that humans are creatures of habit. If you perform the same behavior a few times in a row then a habit is formed, meaning that the action or response becomes automatic. Our repeated behaviors literally become imprinted into our neural pathways. Every time we are consistent in behavior in a certain context, like every time we sit at the same “spot”, the link in our brain between the action and the context becomes stronger.  That’s why habits are difficult to break. We usually develop habits that make us feel secure and comfortable, and so attempting to go against those habits is actually going against the way you’ve wired your frontal lobes. So, every time you sit down in the same “spot”, the more likely your brain is to automatically sit you down in in exactly the same place when you come back. As Aristotle said, “We are what we repeatedly do”.

 

This behavior is an expression of “territoriality.” Territoriality is a spatial organizing mechanism that expresses itself in some interesting ways.  Usually, territoriality is thought of in terms of aggression and defense, such as when nations or gangs or Zumba participants fight, but actually its most common purpose is to keep the peace,” according to Robert Gifford.

 

You are probably stuck in your ways when it comes to seating preferences. Do you always sit in that same chair when you enter a conference room, select the same treadmill at the gym (now known as a fitness center), or choose the same side of the plane when pre-selecting a seat? Author’s note: While writing this I realized that I always choose seats on the left side (facing front) of the plane. Do you try to choose the same table at your usual coffee shop?   Do you get annoyed when someone is using your “favorite” stall in the bathroom at the office? Yes, people really have favorite stalls.

 

We’ve gone from frontal lobes to territoriality and now to environmental psychology in seconds.  Gifford found that most university and high school (if given the choice) students choose the same seat over and over. Their behavior reflects the act of developing small personal territories around a seat, which makes them feel more comfortable. He also observed that even if students can’t “personalize” their space and defend it against the invasion of other users when they are absent,” they still sat in the same place when present. He concluded that the choice of the same seat helps students gain control of their environment and achieve academic and personal goals with minimal interference. Once you’ve chosen a seat on the first day of classes, you’re more likely to continue using that same seat. One evolutionary reason for this is because it’s “safe ” according to Beth Brunmeir writing in Just So You Know.  By sitting in that space originally and not finding any glaring issues, you have confirmed that the spot you are in is unlikely to produce a bad situation. If you sat by the open window the first day and a bee flew in an harassed you, then day two will require a change…….or, you could just close the window.  We humans look for situations that are familiar and secure, and if the space has not caused negative consequences in the past, it can guarantee some degree of safety. Sometimes it may be the same room but a different subject class and the student will look for that same familiar seat used in the other class.  A study by Gilles Clement of Lyon Neuroscience Research Center and Angie Bukley of International Space University wished to determine how fast students settle into a specific seat location—if they do at all. They studied students’ seat selection in a lecture hall over two academic programs for 19 and 44 days. Their findings demonstrated that students start settling into their preferred seats starting from the second day of class, and by the end of the first month in the longer course, almost all of the students were sitting in the same seat every time. Kennedy Horton, a college sophomore described an experience, “Recently, I got to one of my English classes a little later than usual (but still on time). I walked in and a girl was in my unassigned assigned seat. I didn’t know what to do. The way I saw it, I had only three options. I could leave the class, suck it up and just sit somewhere else, or throw her and the desk out of the window. My heart ached for latter, but I stayed. It was the angriest 75 minutes of my life”, she said. 

 

Two-thirds of Americans are obsessive about one thing in particular in their homes – their spot on the couch. Author’s note: I disagree as I believe that a favorite side of the bed could be 99%. Anyway, a recent study of 2,000 people found that 66 percent admitted to having unofficial assigned seating throughout their homes. Conducted by OnePoll the survey revealed that most Americans would feel uncomfortable sitting anywhere else but their favorite spot. A quarter of participants added they’d politely claim the spot and ask an intruder to move, just like Sheldon did in the TV show, Big Bang Theory.  

 

By the 2^nd day of our annual “escape from winter in the Poconos” to Hilton Head Island we had our spots in the living room of our rental home just like at home.  Margaret claimed her spot and I plopped down at the other end of the couch and that became my spot.  And  - that was where we sat when at “home” (aside from guests) for the next two months. And no, we don’t kick guests out of our “spots”, nor do we glare at them.  However, a subtle strategy such as asking the guest who is sitting in “your seat” to go get to a beverage and then jumping into that spot when they leave the room works sometimes.

 

We used to sit in the same pew in church every week. When we would arrive and find someone in our pew, we would have to find alternative seating. So, get there early on Christmas and Easter. This alternative seating, in turn, was someone else’s “seat” probably setting off a chain reaction possibly including some non-Christian thoughts by some. Years later, I attended early morning services at a different church.  Always sat in the back row (don’t we all?).  For various reasons, I missed a couple of months.  When I returned, people were sitting in “my “pew. No worries, there was plenty of room, so I sat at the other end of the pew.   A few minutes later some people arrived and said pointedly to the people in “my” pew.  “Oh! You didn’t save our seats”. I considered their behavior to be “pewtrid” and I presume they sat somewhere else to pray.  If you move to a new town or city, as a new member of a congregation, it is sometimes a bit intimidating trying to find a pew to sit on, for fear of taking someone’s “assigned” seat. 

 

Clearly, if you sit in or take someone else’s spot/space it will set off a chain reaction as people move to someone else’s “spot” and they move to someone else’s’ “spot” and …….  Apparently, fitness classes can turn into petri dishes of chain reactions or even war zones. You can have “the regulars” pointing at someone, while muttering “that new person took my spot” followed by silent seething.  “Next week, I’ll come in earlier to reclaim my spot.” If you make this reductio ad absurdum, people could arrive as early as the night before to maintain possession of their “territory”. One might call the phenomenon, “Spot Identification”, in which rather than names, people are identified by their usual places. So we may hear:  “She sits by the radiator”. Or, “that woman with the short brown hair who sits by the wall”. Or, “she knew it was Ellie’s spot at the front left, but took it anyway”. This might get confusing if there are multiple Ellies present.   “Which Ellie?”  “The Ellie who sit’s next to Carol”. “Oh”…….”Which Carol (there may be multiple Carols)? “The Carol who comes late every week”. As Margaret related to me one day. “Betsy said (in identifying a certain woman), ‘you know that person over here?” “But Margaret didn’t know the “person over here “because (as she explained), she’s in the front and I’m in the back”. Although, to be fair, occasional outbreaks of altruism can feature “Oh, this is your spot? You can have it.” So, they move and take someone else’s spot. It can get very tiring if you think about it because then one has to exercise after all of this.  Heaven forbid that you miss a class and your friends can’t wait to tell you about someone. You ask “Who?”  “The person who took your spot. Now she’s over there in Judy’s spot”. One December, a Christmas Tree took Margaret’s spot. She arrived on time as usual, walked to her spot and there was a fully decorated Christmas Tree standing in her spot. Clearly, she would have to take another spot but then this was someone else’s spot and they would take another spot and it set off that chain reaction. And, as Margaret explained the protocol to me - “the regulars” respect a spot so, if someone is absent, no one will take her spot. It’s sort of like a military formation honoring the lost plane or ship with an empty space.  “We never know which of us will start the chain reaction. But one of us will”…….Colin Beavan

 

Evidently Zumba classes can resemble the Oklahoma Land Rush.  As soon as the door to the room opens there is a charge to be in the front of the room.  Arguments can occur. Settled by dueling Meregue steps at 10 paces?  Yoga classes can also precipitate a crisis. There you are in a safe spot in the yoga room. It feels good relaxing to practice in the same spot every day or week.  You’re close to your friends.  Yoga is silence and meditation.  Then come the inconsiderate nitwits, who invariably arrive late and proceed to talk…..loudly……..and will always plant themselves  near you and you are no longer “safe”. They are not identified by names but merely as “the loud one(s)". Eventually, it may cost you your spot. You have to move …….chain reaction. “The soul becomes prudent by sitting and being quiet. “…… Aristotle reminds us. 

 

So, we continually choose the same seats wherever we are and whenever we get the chance but why do we get upset when people take them from us?

One evolutionary reason for this, as we’ve noted, is because it’s “safe” and by moving to a new seat/spot we’re losing that feeling.  By sitting in that space originally and not finding any glaring issues, you have confirmed that the spot you are in is unlikely to produce a bad situation.  Humans look for situations that are familiar and secure, and if the space has not caused negative consequences in the past, they can guarantee some degree of safety. And then someone takes it away from you and upsets your equilibrium.  

Of course, we have to mix things up every once in a while, to continue to evolve, but especially in situations around strangers or the unknown.  We’re more likely to strike up a pattern of familiarity, like choosing the same seat, to feel some degree of safety. As we said, we are habit forming creatures and habits have to start somewhere so why not with a seat or place?

 

And then there is the tour bus or van which can be a minefield for potential seating kerfuffles.  In the absence of reserved seating, experience indicates that on most tour buses people almost always take the same seats for the entire trip be it a day or a week. They may have lined up early, pre-boarding, in order to get seats on a particular side or right in front of the bus. On many trips, the bus is locked or attended at each stop, so people are told they can leave things at their seats (water bottles, jackets, umbrellas, etc.) thus claiming their territory. Kerfuffle alert there are “spot/seat thieves”, and it can be very awkward to have to retrieve your belongings when someone else had taken the seat you had previously occupied.  Or, you may silently seethe or progress to be grouchy to plotting how to get the seat back at the next stop. However, when someone comes back late and delays the entire bus at multiple stops - that is idiocy, not a territorial imperative and their seats should be up for grabs, especially if they are in a prime location. Travel experts remind us that if there is NO assigned seating. It is first come, first seated if there are no personal belongings on the seats. Personally, I don’t care what the “experts say”. Once I sit there, it is “my spot” and I’m annoyed if it has been purloined.    

 

The territorial imperative can even occur in an airport boarding area. You and your carry-on bags are planted there, it has become your seat. if you leave the seat for refreshments or a call to nature, that seat is the first one you look for when you return to the waiting area. If it is vacant, it’s yours’s again, otherwise the next one you choose will become your seat.  

 

People like to have order. Balance of life, stress and indecision make it an easy to want some things to always be the same. It's just comforting to know you don't have to think about some things - they are always the same.  Sleeping on the same side of the bed. Sitting in class. Familiar things. We like to have order in life when there is so much disorder. We like routine and familiarity and repeating certain behaviors makes us feel safer and more secure. When you sit in the same seat, not only are you interacting with your environment, but you are also creating a personal territory. You do this unconsciously as we’ve said, for many reasons.  Mostly this helps you control the environment around you, especially if you feel out of place, which then helps you achieve goals with little interference. Although sometimes you can go too far with the territorial imperative.  While researching for this essay, I looked up the term “spot possession” on the internet and someone noted while referring to spot possession, “As a psychiatrist, I diagnose mental illness. Also, I help spot demonic possession.” 

Thus, the Territorial Imperative for all the reasons listed above and all the reasons yet to come and all the research about frontal lobes and environmental psychology can be summed up as “because I always sit there”.

 

Sources

 

https://jsyk.wordpress.com/2017/03/21/why-do-we-always-sit-in-the-same-seats/

 

https://qz.com/1349508/the-psychology-behind-why-you-always-want-to-sit-in-the-same-seat

 

https://medium.com/@wpdantes/why-do-i-choose-to-sit-in-the-same-spots-all-the-time-d52c27e07637

 

The Territorial Imperative 

 Robert Ardrey