Steamy opener heats up the theater season

Resslin' Around, by Frank Ameduri

You meet all kinds of interesting … things in this business. Early last week, a freelance writer contacted me and asked if I'd be interested in an article about a Valley woman who raises alpacas. I was interested, mostly because alpacas were a mystery to me. What the heck is an alpaca?

My best guess was that alpacas are miniature llamas. I knew you could make a sweater out of one, but that was about as far as my knowledge could carry me. As usual, there was a newsroom debate.

"Aren't alpacas just small llamas?" I asked.

"No," one reporter said. "Llamas are related to camels, and alpacas are related to sheep." I was willing to accept that, but then, I would have believed alpacas are related to sea turtles.

There's an alpaca farm just down the street from the office, and I grabbed a camera and headed out to meet the mysterious beasts. Lorrie Dreese, co-owner of Arctic Sun Alpacas was gracious, and she let the alpacas out into the field for their photo session.

"Come on in," Dreese said. "They won't hurt you." I'll be honest the sight of the fierce alpacas did not strike fear into my heart. They had been sheared in May, and most of their wool was still quite short. The shearing doesn't include the top of the alpaca's heads, so each animal has a unique hairdo. One of the alpacas I met was a stunning redhead with a thick, curly coif that looked every bit like a 1972 perm gone terribly wrong. That, combined with the giant bedroom eyes and long eyelashes that come as standard equipment on alpacas, was disarming. The alpaca seemed quite comfortable with her locks. She wore an expression of dignity and pride -- as best an alpaca can.

Anyway, I learned a lot about alpacas in just a short time. It turns out they are related to llamas and camels -- llamas being a pack animal and alpacas being valued for their wool. They do spit, but only for good reason, they like to have their necks rubbed and they're fascinated when someone throws a shoe on the ground. That doesn't make me an expert, but it does make me a fan of these strange-looking but curious and gentle animals.

Frank Ameduri is a sucker for big hair and bedroom eyes.