Books. Bikes. Boomsticks.
"Hige sceal þe heardra, heorte þe cenre , mod sceal þe mare, þe ure mægen lytlað…"
Wait a minute, buy LOW, sell HIGH? I've been doing it wrong!
I clicked on the turkey link, misread the blog title as "Guernica" and immediately heard in my head the station manager of WKRP in Cincinatti saying, "As God is my witness, I thought turkeys could fly."
The turkeys are still hanging around Boston suburbs six years after that link. In particular young males like to rush into the street and challenge-display at moving cars. This seems anti-survival, but does show that testosterone-fueled buttheadedness is evolutionarily conserved across not only species but classes as well.Oh, it's not necessarily that we don't know how to deal with idiot turkeys showing off for their girlfriends, we're concerned about having batshit neighbors calling the police on us for "harassing the wildlife" when a turkey leaps into the street and starts pecking at your front tires.Ben Franklin was spot on about the wild(?) turkey all those years ago:"[the turkey is] though a little vain & silly, a Bird of Courage, and would not hesitate to attack a Grenadier of the British Guards who should presume to invade his Farm Yard with a red Coat on." Or a white Subaru VDC wagon either, apparently. Saw an adult bald eagle flying over Spot Pond just north of Boston last week. Take that, Ben!
Semi wild turkeys were a pain in the butt when I lived in PA.A woman asked the local game warden how to keep the birds off the road and holding up traffic.He said just don't slow down. The feathers and blood will was off pretty quickly.Gerry
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