Turkeys on the Lookout

If I were a turkey (no comments please), I'd post a lookout. Someone to let the rest of us know when the axeman cometh.


In that way, those in the know could start performing practiced disgusting acts, like eating feces and flopping around like . . . turkeys with mad cow or something, or whooping up a storm and maybe humping his leg. Nothing would turn the executioner away faster than his target laying one into him, no? The end result: the hooded meanie would move onto the next sucker, simply glad to get away before you 'finished'.

I think I can predict what the next big agricultural disease will be after this post is widely read: Mad Turkey disease. 1st symptom: humping your farmer's leg.

Look outs are always a good thing. Unless you pick an idiot.

Moral: don't pick a turkey for a lookout - they're idiots, or are they?

Happy Thanksgiving, enjoy your steak, and keep the shiny side up.

Elizabeth in My Dreams

I wanted to begin with some humorous anecdote, using clever phraseology, extreme wit, and severe sarcasm. A start that would forever mark the tone and pace of my entry into blog-dome. But I opted for the true story of the inspiration for my favorite poem, because it was one of the most deeply moving, albeit tragic, experiences of my life.

In 2005, when a good friend flipped out over a failed marriage, a tragedy ensued. I am forever haunted by these questions: What would have happened if I rode to Tomahawk with him that weekend prior? Would I have been part of his suicide dance, or would I have sensed his deeply troubled mind and been able to help, reduced his torment and maybe stopped the tragedy? I will never know. I had to attend a rally up in Lake George; the Americade Rally, so I went to work and I let my friend down.

That Monday morning at 4AM, on her birthday, my friend shot his daughter in the head, then sprinkled gasoline around her bedroom, started the fire and shot himself.

Elizabeth in My Dreams

Elizabeth lives in my world at night,
Haunting smile and laughter there.
Sorrow dawns in the morning light
When I wake and become aware,

That heaven is brighter today for she
Surely dazzles St Peter with smile.
Though our world is darker for we
Who loved, she will dazzle us too in awhile.

Let us celebrate life and remember how
Sweet she was and will always be.
For life is the journey we take now,
And a good journey ends heavenly.

Elizabeth lives in our dreams tonight,
Pray our dreams are not too fleeting.
We will hold hands and all will be right,
And we’ll laugh at our secret cheating.

Willard, you are missed. She is not forgotten. Elizabeth and William, R.I.P.