PETER BUFFA -- Comments & Curiosities

Well, we made it. A new day, a new year, a new millennium. What does

it all mean? I have no idea.

I did hear an interesting story while I was in New York, though. It

reminded me of something that happened long ago, right here in the land

of Newport-Mesa, when I was a new face on the Costa Mesa City Council.

One of the first hot potato issues I encountered those many moons ago was

Barney the Goat. Barney was not an old goat. He was a young goat. In

fact, he was just a kid. Sorry. Couldn’t help it.

Barney lived in Costa Mesa and was a loyal, loving pet to his owners.

He was far less popular with the neighbors, however. He would spend the

day in the backyard doing goat things and occasionally making goat

noises. I’m not sure what goat noises are, but apparently they are

unpleasant unless you’re a goat, which the neighbors were not. Somehow,

Barney became ensnared in the long arm of the city’s municipal code, and

for a while, it looked as if Barney was going to have to pursue his dream

elsewhere.

It became quite a story, with news coverage far and wide about Costa

Mesa and Barney the Goat. There was some heated discussion on the council

dais and a parade of speakers ranging from pet owners to goat experts on

why it was either a very good idea or a very bad idea for a goat to live

in a city. I’m not sure how someone becomes a goat expert, but apparently

it can be done.

At the end of the day, Barney was allowed to stay. Fine. Flash forward

15 years. I’m in Gotham, listening to a news story about a New York City

Council meeting over whether ferrets should be allowed in the city. The

meeting became quite animated, with a sizable number of ferret owners in

attendance, ferrets in tow.

Ferrets, as you know, are weasel-like animals, but smaller and not

nearly as mean as weasels, which are larger and have a personality much

like Alan Dershowitz. Ferrets are cuter and cuddlier, more like Rikki

Tikki Tavi, which is actually a mongoose, so forget it. This is too

confusing. Ferrets are cute little weasel-things. Just go with it.

Anyway, there they were -- council members, ferret fanciers and ferret

foes -- all trying to talk at once, debating whether the biggest city in

the world is big enough for people and ferrets both. Then who should pop

up but two ferret experts, the husband-and-wife team of Eric and Mary

Shefferman. Eric and Mary publish the ever-popular Modern Ferret Magazine

and, if you have let your subscription lapse, shame on you.

Eric and Mary are legends in ferret-dom and live on Long Island with

their seven ferrets: Knuks, Trixie, Bosco da Gama, Balthazar,

Cauliflower, Koosh and Gabrielle. Attending the council meeting with the

Sheffermans were Cauliflower, Bosco da Gama and Balthazar, whom I assume

is a very wise ferret. The ferrets were about as impressed with the

council meeting as most people are, which is to say, they were dying to

get out of there. But aside from the ferret wrangling, which was intense

at times, Mary and Eric were a wealth of information and certainly know

their ferrets.

It seems there has indeed been a ferret explosion, not just in the Big

Apple but across the United States. The biggest reason, believe it or

not, are the enormously popular Budweiser lizards. You know -- Frank and

Louie the Lizard, “Bud,” “Wise,” “Errrr,” etc., etc. The lizards were

popular enough, but when Budweiser added the barely intelligible singing

ferret to the equation, America went gaga for ferrets.

As soon as enough people beat a path to their nearest pet store in

search of ferrets, nature took over. Ferrets do not have good values.

They have no moral compass and virtually no self-restraint. Before long,

badaboom, they’re everywhere. Not to worry, claim Eric and Mary. Not only

are ferrets not inappropriate for the city life, but they are in fact

ideal. They are quiet and generally well-behaved, although Balthazar must

have gotten into the espresso before the meeting. What ferrets leave

behind is very easy to deal with, far easier than the dog or cat variety.

And best of all, they really, really don’t like rodents. The feeling is

quite mutual, and rodents will avoid them like the plague, which is

probably not the best analogy for things rodents avoid, but you get the

point.

I left town before the gavel came down on the ferrets and their

future, but it was all terribly nostalgic. I voted for Barney then, and

I’d do it again now. I rather like the idea of an occasional farm animal

that digs the city life. If there’s room for ferrets in our urbanized

hearts, how could we turn away a goat?

Barney, buddy, whatever happened to you? Are you still here? Are there

little Barneys? Do they live in Costa Mesa like their old man or did you

move everybody to the high desert, along some dusty stretch of Highway

395? E-mail me if you can, if not just drop me a line. We’d love to hear

from you, you old goat.

I gotta go.

* PETER BUFFA is a former Costa Mesa mayor. His column runs Fridays.

He can be reached via e-mail at PtrB4@aol.com.