Wednesday, November 24, 2010

There Is a Time For a Turkey

Happy Thanks-something. It seems like the entire meaning of the day has been misconstrued by anyone who wants to prove a political point these days.

Anyway, I want to discuss the virtues of a turkey, negative as they may be. The turkey has always been a joker, by it's gobble, gobble. Yet, I don't think the bird would find that to be so funny if you really look at it. The beast only used its vocal chords to save other birds from harm. And, damn they can run. They are a kind of modern day emu. Fast, threatened and loud.

The turkey always feels threatened, scared of what is coming to look at it. It feels like all it can do is scream with its red neck flapping, vocal chords extended. It is always in defense and for no reason at times. I'll never forget seeing the plume of one on the wall in a garage in Maryland. So gorgeous. Yet, so dumb.

Even moreso, the poor beast gets the most average name of "Tom." They are more than Toms. They have been here in North America, goofy as they may be, and have thrived upon it's soil for decades.I feel like they are family, those Toms...Dumb, yet fast and always easily caught for some reason.

Way back in kindergarten we used to trace our fingers, add feather to them, glue them on. Those turkeys were unreal because they were perfect. Cookie cut-outs. The real turkeys we ingest on this upcoming day have flaws. They were too loud, they pecked wrongly. They guessed wrong in their get away plan.

They were, sadly, plainly, utterly human.

Unless they were farmed, then they were slaves....

So, to go back to the old style, here is the haiku:

Steeeeeady, not so fast.
If you run, they will break you,
they always catch up.





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