The other day, I was sitting in the pub and Dr. Hartman came in with a a very curious story.  Working in his garden late last summer, a man came rushing toward him, redfaced, panting and sweating.  As Dr. Hartman tells the story his reaction was leaning toward CPR, the guy was so panicked.  But before any further assessment he found himself standing in the garden, hands clutching ripe habenero peppers, being shook by the color, "Have you seen my bees??!!!!!!!!"  "My Bees are gone!!"
     And then no sooner had he arrived but off, in the same manner heading across the parking lot of the First United Methodist Church, the Hawaian shirted apiarist ran searching the sky, hedges and lawns of every house from Meade St. to the college for his lost honey bees.  The Dr., again as he tells it, hadn't gotten a word in but stood wondering how he might have been of assistance, not knowing which of the honey bees he might have seen were the panicked neighbor's and which were wholly unowned or perhaps even the property of another beekeeper.  
   Dr. Hartman can tell a pretty good story and for the most part they are all pretty believable so we all had a pretty good laugh at this one, layered as it was with so many possible ironies.  I might have finished my laughing and allowed my attention to turn back to my fresh cold full pint of ale, but I recalled hearing something about a year ago concerning honey bees disappearing on the east coast and instead I sat pondering the details of this tale. I decided to look into it a little further.  As it turns out, our local bee keeper would soon realize that his colony of bees were not only late returning from work, but had abandoned there careers, home, queen, children and apparently their entire lives.
     It is now a known fact that 70% of all commercial honey bee colonies have disappeared from the entire east coast and nearly 60% of west coast colonies have follwed suit in the short time span of ony a couple of years.   What had been called Fall Dwindle Disease has recently been renamed, Colony Collapse Disorder by the MId-Atalntic Apiculture Research and Extension Consortium, and the epidemic results in worker bees leaving the hive in the morning to pollinate and do what bees do to make honey, and instead of fullfilling their loyal duty they never come home.  They simply fly away and disappear entirely.
     There is no agreement in the scientific community as to why CCD is occuring, however recent studies have linked CCD with cell phone usage and the radiation and microwaves associated with these devices.  Apparently the bees are able to receive these singnals and, as a result, are not returning to there hives.
     Dr. Hartman's frantic apiarist wasn't looking for lost bees.  He was looking for bees who were joining billions of apis mellifera on the entire planet who were responding to cell phone communications technology.
    I was struck dumb.
    So now, we not only have to worry about, global warming, terrorists, evil corporations, liberals and the Bush administration tapping our phone lines illegally, but the damn bees are listening in to our phone calls as well. And apparently they have taken it upon themselves to critique our collective dialogue by going on strike, in an effort, perhaps to wipe our mind numbing, pointless conversing-too-much-about-nothing humans off the planet.  Instead of putting up with the constant uninvited conversation between two teenage girls discussing the popularity of a particular belly button adornment, they are choosing to not pollinate our crops in a mass demonstration of civil Dis-o-bee-die-dance.
     Bees pollinate our vegetables and are essential to the production of many crops including apples, pears, peanuts , tomatos and perhaps most critically soybeans.
    Albert Einstein is quoted as having said that were the honey bees to disappear, mankind would follow in four years. 
     There are no scientists refuting Colony Collpase Disease as far as I can tell. And, I can't remeber the last ime I was stung walking barefoot in my backyard.   I used to hate the sight of those ugly little things, floating around the dandylion, impeding my play, causing so much worry for the fear of stepping on one, the dull sting getting more and more painful each second.  Although I did like the baking soda, the kiss on the foot and excuse to sit down and just watch for a while.  I think I am going to miss them should they disappear entirely.
    Have you seen my honey bees?