#49 - December 14th, 2005

With Christmas fast approaching the “headless chicken syndrome” is increasingly prevalent. Whilst casually perusing the shopping district in Fort Bragg last week I was buffeted out of the way by a couple of panic buyers who hardly noticed I was there. Those who know me would find that hard to believe and yet these shoppers continued on their chaotic way without a word. Not only are the buyers in a trance, it seems that many of the sales assistants are similarly affected. This cannot be said of three very personable and hard-working staff at the Radio Shack in town. Kathy, Mary, and Randee couldn’t have been more helpful and patient in trying to solve the difficult cell phone problems I confronted them with…Thank you ladies/women/girls – it was tough at times but we got there in the end…..
As someone who watches an unhealthy amount of sport on T.V., I feel qualified to comment on the ever-increasing number of car and beer commercials which dominate the breaks in the action. Strange phenomenon really – the marketing gurus seem to be encouraging us to drink and drive, in other words, to go f*** ourselves. Not very nice of them, I have to say…..
Things People Say - # 34 : I overheard this from a curmudgeonly old man in the Philo Post Office the other day…Referring to his nephew who had suffered financial ruin, he commented, with tongue in cheek I would hope…“If they didn’t want to go bankrupt, they should have thought about that before deciding to pursue their dreams”…..
A number of you have enquired about the whereabouts and well-being of my Senior Roving Reporter, The Balding Eagle. Well, he is still mentally scarred from the shock of hearing about President’s Bush’s tentative plan to cull all Bald Eagles to prevent the spread of avian flu but otherwise he is in fine health and back at work. Last week he headed east and, from his base in Amherst, Massachusetts, has filed this report entitled, ‘80% of all hermits are recovering from broken hearts’ —‘According to conclusions reached by researchers at the University of Massachusetts, four-fifths of the world's dedicated recluse population were once luckless in love. "We have conclusively linked heartsickness to the behavior of dwelling in remote mountaintop caves, in bramble-covered forest huts, and on nameless unmapped islands," professor of solitary psychology Ludwig Meyer said Monday. "The loss of a lifetime's one true love seems to be enough to drive some people into splendid isolation in arctic regions and trackless jungle wilds." The study noted that the remaining 20 percent of hermits were driven from human contact by the desire to run naked around the woods, urinating though their knee-length beards.’…Yes, folks, the Eagle has landed…and is doing a fine job, obviously…..
Thanks to those of you who have written to turkeyvulture1@earthlink.net with your kind/unkind comments and questions. If you haven’t received a reply yet, don’t panic, I shall reply to everyone in time – it would be rude not to…Meanwhile, just to clear up any confusion which apparently has surprisingly arisen in some quarters on the topic of my farewell salutation, “Let us prey” …When I ask you to “prey” with me I am not saying “pray” with me – far from it actually. I am simply requesting, or suggesting, that you be on the lookout for anything which may be of some benefit to you or your loved ones – as, for example, the discovery of some carrion would certainly be for me and my Gang. Whilst I obviously accept any of you praising any god of your choosing, I myself am still ‘searching’ and have not come to a definitive conclusion on this deepest of matters. Thus it is not a religious comment. Furthermore, it’s only my opinion but I do not believe that Church and Turkey Vultures mix too well.
Moving on…I thought, “What a festive idea”, when I was invited to bake cookies and watch Christmas movies one evening last week. As you can imagine, obviously I wasn’t going to be the one doing the baking, merely the one in charge of quality control. Anyway, it didn’t quite happen that way…The movie turned out to be the classic “Harold and Maude” - not Christmassy at all but great stuff all the same, and the cookies couldn’t be baked because, as the explanation went,” there’s a rat’s nest under the oven”… “What?” I asked incredulously, seeing my planned feast of cookies go by the wayside. “Isn’t that taking the ‘dog ate my homework’ excuse to a whole other level?”…..”It’s not an excuse, Vulture, you crazy coot” the hostess replied. ”It’s true!”….The baking was not going to happen and it was true - a small wood rat nest was there and the oven was temporarily out of commission… As I sulked in the corner munching on chips and salsa instead, I couldn’t help but think that this particular explanation would have to go in the “Only in the Country” file…..
You know when the holidays are upon us when the number of kids in and around town during the day reaches ‘mob’ proportions. They are off school for three weeks – nice work if you can get it…Meanwhile, the Christmas decorations are being put up in downtown Boonville at many of the houses and businesses and the annual Chamber of Commerce award for the best exhibits will be a close call I’m sure. Unfortunately, the usual excellent display at The Buckhorn Saloon will not be seen this year with the potentially wonderful downtown bar remaining closed for business. I continue to hear rumors of it’s re-opening but I’ll only believe it when I am sitting on a barstool with me feet on a bar-rail and a pint of Poleeko Pale Ale alongside a plate of spicy wings in front of me… It’s too bad – I know many people miss Diana, Jo-Ann, and the Crew and the numerous festivities they were a part of at The B.S. at this time of year…Happy holidays to the “Gang” if I don’t see you around…and best wishes to all the competitors in this year’s competition…..
A Christmas tale of Valley life and country cunning…….
"Hello, is this the FBI?"


"Yes. What do you want?"


"I'm calling to report about my neighbor Billy Bob Smith. He is hiding
 marijuana inside his firewood."


"Thank you very much for the call, sir."


The next day, the FBI agents descend on Billy Bob's house. They search the 
shed where the firewood is kept. Using axes, they bust open every piece of
 wood, but find no marijuana.

 They swore at Billy Bob and left.


The phone rings at Billy Bob's house.

 "Hey, Billy Bob! Did the FBI come?"


"Yeah!"


"Did they chop your firewood?"


"Yep."


"Merry Christmas, Buddy"
Anyone out there who thinks people in the country are ‘simple folk’ should learn something from this…or they just might end up having to kiss a bear’s ass…..
Well, my brain doesn’t seem to be working too well this week so I’ll take my leave a little early…Enjoy your Christmas parties and try to stay out of the ditches on the way home…May your god go with you - but meanwhile, let us prey…Humbly yours, Turkey Vulture…