Q: Why did the turkeys cross the road? A: To get to the Harmony.
Dear Diary: Oh how pretty, the leaves are turning! Just the tips of the trees a burnished gold. On my way to work I lowered my eyes to the street and WHAT? Look! Oh my! Wild turkeys! Look at those silly fellows! Wild turkeys waddling along IN THE STREET! There must have been a half dozen of them and right in the middle of the city! They were the size of big, black beach balls, just like the giant ones that get batted around at rock concerts. Speaking of rock, one of them strutted around like Mick Jagger. He was so funny! Where did they come from? Our neighbor Carol saw them, too. She told me after work. So I definitely wasn't seeing things!
I saw the turkeys again this afternoon. On the bike path! A couple of bicyclists had to swerve around them. I watched them march down through cracks in a fence into someone's yard. They stood there muttering to themselves. Super-strange sounds. Purrs, yelps and cackles. Beneath white sheets hanging out to dry, in the fall sun they looked like pilgrims sailing in on the Mayflower! I've talked with lots of people in the 'hood who have seen them. "Have you seen the turkeys?" is a common question overheard in the aisle at the market. You hear it all the time. The turkeys are the talk of the town! Boy, are we going to miss them when they fly south for the winter. Oh! And someone posted a picture of them on Facebook! They're famous!
We have a new game at our house. It's called, "Where Will the Turkeys Be This Morning?" We only play it on weekends, but no matter where our errands send us, we drive around a little extra until we turn the corner and BAM! There they are! I wonder how much longer they'll be around? A friend of ours got right up close to them. She said their feathers are all oily. Did you know that Benjamin Franklin lobbied for the wild turkey to be the national bird? Who wouldn't? They're so social! You never see a bunch of bald eagles hanging around someone's trash can, do you? That's what we saw the turkeys doing this morning. Our turkeys are so nutty!
I hope the turkeys aren't lost on their way south or something. Here comes Christmas, and they're still here. This morning we took out-of-town visitors on a walk to find them. And we did! They couldn't believe it, and we laughed and laughed. I heard there's a dude in the neighborhood who actually feeds them. He gives them bird seed or something. We spied a Schoep's ice cream worker feeding the turkeys from his car trunk. That was cool to see. So much better than the usual drug deals! The turkeys are bringing our neighborhood together! I hope they never leave!
The number 38 bus was delayed this morning for, like, 10 minutes while those fancy lad turkeys blocked Rutledge Street. There's only four of them now. Nobody knows what happened to the others. Maybe they got run over or something. The driver of the bus had to get out and shoo them out of the street, which you'd think would be a funny sight but Jesus, I had to get to work. They're kind of running things around here. It reminds me of what my mother used to say about company that stayed too long. "They wore out their welcome," she'd say, drying dishes and putting them away after midnight. On Tuesday, the turkeys followed the garbage truck all the way down the street, pecking away at the flotsam of Kleenex and kitchen scraps in the truck's wake. Kind of pathetic-looking, to tell you the truth. Isn't there, like, a humane society to call for wild turkeys? I'd call them if there was one.
The turkeys clogged Atwood Avenue this morning. Again. Sumbitches. When you think about it, aren't wild turkeys really like big, feathered, Butterball rats? This week, one of them bit a neighbor right in the ass. All the guy was doing was bending over photographing them. They act all vain and put out now when people do that. Like you're robbing them of their soul or something. Hey! I got a message for you, turkeys. How about all the time you're robbing from us clogging up the damn street? It's Valentine's Day, for Christ's sake. Don't you have somewhere to go? Like another continent or something? A quick touching of the ecological bases? They say turkeys are good fliers. Dear Diary, I wonder: Are they good fryers?