Harmony County

2011 & 2009 Winner of "Best Humor Column" awarded by the SC Press Association

Strictly for the birds

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   I favor pillows stuffed with feathers. The ones that are fiber filled seem to me to be not as comfortable and are as impossible to fluff up as a brick. The other morning I woke up and the bed was filled with feathers. It seems that one of my pillows went into self-destruct mode and busted a seam. It looked like the hen house exploded.

   As we get older, some of us experience physical changes. We loose teeth, hair, vision, memory and so on. However, I never expected to loose feathers. It took me some time to figure out what happened, but my initial thought was, “Oh brother, now I’m molting”.

   With feathers as the memory jogger, I am reminded of a couple of parrot stories and one of my favorite jokes.

   When I was stationed in the Panama Canal Zone, I had a friend who had a parrot. Actually, it was his wife’s pet. He and the big, blue feather creature never got along. The critter and his wife and kids were great pals, but he could not get close to it without risking a bite and a parrot can easily draw blood. The animosity was mutual.

   When the family was packing up to return to the States, somehow the parrot got loose. Instead of taking off for the green and uncut, it hung around the house. Every time the bird saw my friend it would put up a squawking racket like it was taunting my friend who had spent a ton of money buying it. The guy was seething.

   Eventually, the wife enticed the bird back with food and the crying kids were happy. My friend said, “If I hadn’t shipped my shotguns home I’d have gotten the bird back in a hurry and we would have had stuffed parrot for supper”.

   I once knew a veterinarian who told me he was in the market for a, ‘parrot sexer’. Evidently, it was a device that when inserted into the bird determined its sex. The thing costs thousands of dollars and had to be very uncomfortable for the parrot, but the answer it provided was very important to parrot breeders for all the obvious reasons.

   I suggested a cheaper alternative. “Doc, why don’t you just take the parrot to a bar? If it orders a shot and a beer, it is a guy parrot. If it orders a Pink Lady, it is a gal parrot.” The vet did not agree. My sole contribution to veterinary science was ignored.

   One of my favorite jokes involves a parrot.

   A Hasidic Jewish man (These are the fellows who wear the black, broad-brimmed hats, black suits, long beards and have the long curly sideburns.) walks into a bar in Manhattan. He has a parrot on his head.

   The bartender looks up, sees the two, and asks, “Where did you get him?”

   The parrot replies, “In Brooklyn. They’re all over the place.”

   (No offense intended. It was showstopper in the repertoire of Henny Youngman, the famous comedian.)© 2010, Harmony County


Written by harmonycounty

January 22, 2010 at 4:42 p01

Posted in Americana, Humor

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