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Tuesday, November 20, 2007

Stream-of-Consciousness Ode To Turkeys

I know I have many readers outside the States who don't celebrate Thanksgiving and probably don't even understand the meaning of turkey and sweet potatoes. Don't worry, neither do I. I just participate because everyone does ;-).

The turkey, I was told, was this close to being our National Bird. It really does have some great qualities. For example, the turkey has excellent vision and hearing. Their field of vision is about 270 degrees, which is as close to having eyes at the back of one's head as one could get. It can run up to 20mph and take flight at great bursts of speed up to 55 mph. Benjamin Franklin, one of our forefathers, was the one who wanted the turkey to be our National Bird, but he was an eccentric genius who flew kites during storms, so yeah, you know there were a lot of eye-rolling and coughing among the other esteemed forefather dudes when old B.F. suggested the turkey!

So, we ended up with the majestic eagle. I have to admit the eagle brings more fear and a sense of pride in me than the gobbling turkey. Would you name your football team the Florida Gobbling Turkeys? Or would you prefer the Florida Eagles? Thought so.

So, we save the eagle. And we eat the darn turkeys, 'kay?

Do we romance the turkeys like we romance the eagle? Think of it...we wouldn't mind a hero who's a were-eagle, right? We embrace that. Do you think Anita Blake would use her magic hooha with a were-turkey? Okay, strike that thought. ;-) Anita would do it with a were-worm, if it meant a possibility of a threesome in the future. LOL.

But back to the turkeys and Thanksgiving. My question from over twenty-some years ago remained unanswered. I asked, when I was told that the first Thanksgiving feast didn't include turkeys but probably deer, why was the turkey suddenly picked as the bird/food of choice then? Today, two decades later, I still haven't gotten an answer. I suppose, one day a bunch of hunters couldn't find a darn deer all freaking week before Thanksgiving, and there was this bunch of wild turkeys just sitting there, gobbling away, and they just shot them and brought them home to their wives.

"That's the Thanksgiving turkey, honey," said the hunter to his wife. And who was she to complain? It's definitely easier than carving, gutting and skinning a deer. Turkey it was! And there you have it--a tradition started ;-).

Incidentally, we've gotten to using "turkey" as a synonym for "dummy." So, really, a were-turkey would be a really stupid hero, I think. With wrinkly excess neck skin. Oh ugh.

Not that we readers are that literal with our imaginations, of course. I mean, it is the BALD eagle, you know. ;-)

But back to the turkey. If there were such a thing as a were-turkey, one of my workers would be it. He talks and talks and talks ALL day, so much so that after a while, the words sound suspiciously like "gobblegobblegobbleygook." And he is a bit dumb. Okay, a lot dumb.

For example, he was telling us today that he was a Thanksgiving baby and that he'd be 46 on Thursday. And proceeded to tell us about the birthday feast, the turkey, the stuffing, everything that he planned to do. Then he let slipped that he was born in 1962.

A pause in our hammering.

"Uh. Yo, dude. That makes you 45 this Thursday."

"No, it doesn't. I've been 45 all year."

"If you were born in 62, and your birthday is this Thursday, you're turning 45, dude."

"I tell you, I am 45 already."

"No, you aren't."

"Am too!"

"Do the math."

He waved his fingers dramatically. "72. 82. 92. 02. That's 40. 03, 04, 05, 0...6, Forty.....five," he counted, the last few numbers coming out rather reluctantly.

"See? I was right. You're actually 44. Not that it fucking matters since you've been 45 all year."

His birdcrown creased. The neck skin looked suspiciously red. "Huh?" Angry sniff. Rotating 270 degrees-eyes "Dammit. My wife tricked me! She told me I was 45! Can you believe it, she got my age wrong!"

Multiple groans and snickers around the roof. And that, my friends, is not an alpha were-turkey either.

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marisa said...

You stream-of-consciousness killed me. KILLED. ME.

Gennita said...

It killed everyone else too, LOL. They were bored to death, probably ;-).


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