Boogers and Bigfeet: Hope Dies Hard

(Written by Alex McRae and originally published in the Newnan Times-Herald newspaper on Aug. 22, 2008.)

If dreams were balloons, one of my biggest would now be resting on the wreck of the Titanic. All because of a few phonies.
Phooey.
In my second year of college, a close encounter with organic chemistry was the final reminder that medical school was no longer a career possibility. It hurt. Mostly because I considered myself a real science junkie.
I got hooked in kindergarten when I realized you could make plastic frogmen float up and down in the tub by filling their hollow fins with baking soda.
A few years later when UFOs were all the rage, I jumped on the bandwagon with both feet. So did my father. He even bought a telescope. It was allegedly to check out the stars, but we both knew better.
And ever since I first heard the words "Abominable Snowman," I've believed there was a chance that large, hairy creatures might still roam remote parts of the Earth. Lots of times, my beliefs were buttressed by what appeared to be semi-credible reports from allegedly sane and sober people who swore they had encountered such critters.
Once, I even interviewed a solid, reliable citizen who said her son had an encounter with such a creature not 10 miles from my mailbox.
Despite the lack of scientific evidence that such creatures exist, I've always held out hope.
And why not? Virtually every civilization on Earth has a legend of a Bigfoot-type creature, whether it's called Yeti, Skunk Ape or Sasquatch.
So when a couple of Georgia boys showed up recently to announce they had picked up an actual dead Bigfoot and taken it home, my heart turned flips.
These dudes said they found their prize in the north Georgia mountains. I've been convinced strange things roam the Georgia mountains since I saw "Deliverance," so the Bigfoot news wasn't a total shock.
Then these boys promised to unveil their find at a California press conference. Except they didn't. Instead of dazzling the world with their find, the dudes said the carcass was being kept in a "hidden location."
All Matthew Whitton and Rick Dyer had for show-and-tell were a few bad photos and a big plug for their Web site.
Their "hard evidence" was a picture of something big and hairy in what looked like an oversized fish box. What a laugh. It was a huge ball of fur with a head that didn't match and a set of teeth that looked like they came for Don's Discount Dentures in Dahlonega.
I've seen better gorilla suits at the local party store, but these fakers insisted they had the real thing. Right. So real they were storing it in a styrofoam cooler behind Bubba's double-wide.
The men said they had submitted DNA samples for testing. To no one's surprise, none of the samples screamed "Bigfoot." Scientists termed one sample as "inconclusive." Another was mostly human. The final sample was said to contain the DNA of a possum.
Trying to pass off a possum as a Bigfoot? When I heard that, I started praying that these two fakers would spend eternity cleaning the monkey cages at Heaven's zoo.
Then it got worse. A few days after the press conference, these phonies finally admitted their "Bigfoot" was nothing but an empty rubber suit. By then, no one was surprised, but a few sure were disappointed. Yours truly included.
I'm crushed. I've recovered from disappointment before, but this one is gonna take a while.
Meanwhile, if you see something big and hairy out there in the woods, give me a call. Hope dies hard.