no.4 - mercurial fishes

I remember seeing mercury for the first time in junior high. My science teacher held up a small vial of the silvery liquid and, if I remember correctly, he poured it onto the lab table and proceeded to tell us how dangerous it was.

I did not listen. How could I? It was beautiful! I wanted to touch it. I wanted to push it around and play with it.

I did not want to eat it.

Later, in high school, our chemistry teacher brought out the mercury again. He too poured it out — though he was more responsible and kept it contained to a tray. He told us how some juniors the year before had spilled some in the hall. Mercury is not easy to clean.

It was still beautiful, shimmering there in the tray as Mr. Beals (yes, uncle to the star of Flashdance) carefully explained how mercury was absorbed into the skin and poisoned the body. I still wanted to touch it. I still wanted the play. And when he explained that mercury was so dense that you could walk across its surface, provided you could keep your balance, I could not help but fantasize about playing in a mercury pool.

I still had no desire to eat the stuff.

A few weeks back, there was a report that 20 restaurants in New York had so much mercury in their tuna, that just six pieces would exceed levels set as acceptable by the EPA. What no one was talking about was the rest of the tuna supply, because last time I checked, tuna was not coming out of the Hudson. If Tuna vended or mongered by fish mongers in New York have high levels of Mercury, then what about the rest of the country?

My thoughts turned to those luscious sushi grade chunks of tuna at my local market. The ruby red translucence makes my mouth water. I want to crust them in cracked pepper and sear them on in an iron skillet for the briefest of moments, so the center remains red, and raw and delicious.

But now, I'm afraid, I have no desire to eat the stuff.