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You know when you’re waiting in line at the supermarket because that lady that just walked jumped in front of you has sent the checkout person back to exchange a cucumber that had a spot on it for another one. You know who I mean, she’s the same one who orders spaghetti at McDonald’s and then argues with the counter guy because it’s not available. Well when this happens and it always does, it gives you time to read those magazines at the end of the counter, the ones with stories like “My Grandmother Had Bigfoot’s Baby!” and “Aliens Ate my Poodle!” stuff like that. Well I like those. It gives you a chance to see what the normal folks are up to while you’re out in the boonies taking pictures.

So there, right on the front cover was the story “One Headed Buffalo Calf Born in Yellowstone!” I was GobSmacked I got to tell you. I had recently been up to Yellowstone and hadn’t heard a word about it. You’d a thunk they would have had roadblocks set up so everybody coming and going would know what was going on. Nope, not a word.

I was so excited by this phenomenon that I dropped my gallon jug of Ensure and dashed out to Yellowstone. I didn’t even stop to water my Coleman’s coralroot, a stunning purple orchid that exists in only a few mountain ranges in the Southwest. Fewer than 200 are known to exist in the wild and I had just nudged mine into blooming. I didn’t care. All I could think of was to get up to Yellowstone and document this miracle before some else did.

I barely came to a rolling stop at the park’s entrance to flash my lifetime Geezer Pass and current Driver’s License while yelling “Where is It ? Where’s the one headed Buffalo calf?” The attendant crisp and sharp in her freshly pressed Ranger suit barely looked up as she said “Try along the Madison.”

I was baffled. Here we have one of the biological miracles of the century and you would have thought I had asked her where I might see some Japanese tourists with cameras. I looked her right in the eye and said “There’s a one headed Buffalo calf in the park and I’m going to find it.” She didn’t seem alarmed as she looked directly at me but I noticed she pushed that red button thing they have in their booths that take your picture.

But I had my first clue, the Madison river, that’s where all the buffalo hang out to have their calves. Clever, hiding it plain sight that way. I drove slowly along watching the various groups of buffalo and then suddenly there it was. She was standing alone as if shunned by the rest of the herd. A young buffalo cow and her newly born ! – One Headed Buffalo Calf- ! I nearly passed out with excitement. My hands were shaking and I couldn’t do a simple thing like set my tripod up, I was only able to extend two of the legs and the stupid clamp wouldn’t work and I finally just threw it down on the ground and kicked it under the truck. I handheld the camera and that is why the first three hundred of my shots were blurry but eventually I was able to get a hold of myself and start acting like the professional I am.

I got those pictures that day. You can see one above in fact. There he is, a one headed buffalo calf born in the wild to a registered full-blooded buffalo mother and I have the picture. There were other photographers there that day and some were taking pictures, but they missed the story of their lives. They looked right past this little guy as if something like this happened every day. Not me though, I got the shot and right now I’m shopping it around to the tabloids. Murdoch hasn’t returned my call yet but that’s probably because some aide is asleep at the switch. Boy is he fired when the boss sees this shot in Nat Geo and he could have had it for a song. My answering machine is blinking, that’s probably Getty wanting exclusive rights, but I don’t know, I’m holding out for the big bucks. Wish me luck.