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Tales from Exit 22 by Al Batt

There was something in the air.

I was trying to weave my day into a seamless garment when a strange wind blew. Something was bugging me. I’m sure it was my imagination, but I could hear the theme from “Jaws.”

Was it climate change?

Some people call them ladybugs, but ladybugs are cute. These were flotsam floating on a sea of aggravation.

It was Oct. 8, a sunny day whose beautiful edges became blurred when they drew a cloud — a great flight of multicolored Asian lady beetles (MALBs), nicknamed Halloween beetles or pumpkin beetles, entered the yard.

It was as if they had been a part of a cattle drive from Texas to Kansas along the Chisholm Trail when they were spooked (probably by a ridiculous political ad on TV) and stampeded.

In response to a changing world, they shared the common goal of becoming volunteer insulation in my house. They were excited about a possible merger with my abode. When temperatures drop and soybean fields have been harvested, MALBs embark on a search for warmer temperatures and hibernation sites. Beetles are drawn to light-colored buildings and walls in sunny areas during their flight season from mid-September to October. The beetles exhibit a similar behavior in their native lands, where they fly to south-facing rock cliffs and outcroppings.

The MALBs reminded me of a movie I’ve never seen, “The Birds,” a 1963 horror-thriller film produced and directed by Alfred Hitchcock and starring Rod Taylor, Jessica Tandy, Suzanne Pleshette and Minnesotan Tippi Hedren. One day, the birds began attacking the actors in San Francisco. I like birds too much to watch that picture.

The multicolored Asian lady beetle is native to Asia, where it’s an important predator that feeds on aphids and other soft-bodied insects dwelling in trees. Exactly how MALBs made their way to North America remains shrouded in mystery. Was this species accidentally conveyed on ships to various ports, notably New Orleans and Seattle? MALBs were introduced to California in 1916 to control aphids but died off. The USDA imported MALBs from Russia, Japan, and Korea, and released them in several states as part of a biological control program to manage insect pests of trees.

Several sources cite a release in Louisiana in 1988 as the one that “took,” and the beetle traveled elsewhere on its own dime, taking up residence in Minnesota in 1994. Various state Departments of Natural Resources want everyone to know that they didn’t release MALBs to be food for wild turkeys.

An MALB has an angel on one shoulder and a devil on the other, if it has shoulders. It’s a beneficial insect that feeds on soybean aphids, but can be a pest on fruit crops. Overripe or damaged fruit attracts MALBs. Are MALBs more rocks than pillows? You decide.

The color and number of spots on an MALB are variable, but a constant is an ‘M’ or ‘W’ between the head and wing shields, depending on which way you’re looking at the insect.

While they don’t infest wood, destroy fabrics or eat our food, they don’t bring instant enlightenment and bliss either. If crushed, the beetles emit a foul odor and leave a stain. I’d do the same. I endured an unpleasant taste after one kamikaze crashed into my mug of hot tea, which became tea with a beetle, which tasted like Earl Grey.

The beetles might be prevented from entering homes by caulking or sealing cracks and crevices, or caulking each individual beetle.

If something bites you and there is nothing there, it’s a minute pirate bug that bites far above its weight class. In Greek mythology, a Minotaur, a monster with the head of a bull and the body of a man, was imprisoned in a dark underground labyrinth at Knossos on the Aegean island of Crete, where it devoured people. The Labyrinth was an ingenious maze commissioned by King Minos and designed by Daedalus. A minute pirate bug is no Minotaur, but it’s a monster with the body of a tiny insect and the bite of an alligator.

The mini-Halloween pumpkins (MALBs) bit me, too, to see if I was edible. The assaults weren’t lovely parting gifts.

But why would a MALB give a parting gift to a future roommate?

Al Batt’s columns appear in the Tribune every Wednesday.