Dedicated to all who lost their lives to the Blue Banshee swatter between 1998 and 2004. |
Fly (04/24/2004) Winged picnic visitor, I see you there and you are mine. Genetically programmed for this hunt, my pupils dilate with excitement. I watch you, stealthily, as the Discovery Channel, Mutual of Omaha lion that you might have seen from over my shoulder in last Tuesday night's re-run. But you, gazelle!.................................................quickly! How you do dart.................and no......distraction,.........................no ..........no, not.....................angry, .............................................................................................NO! annoying?.......no..............pesky?....................distracting? ................................................no! We welcome your blessings. Watermelon, barbecue, and you -- you form our picnic trinity! You bring us joy,.................................................distracting us from daily dilemmas, traditional ab- normalities, and I suddenly find myself strongly influenced by piƱatas and matadors that... ....side-step into my mind to the festive sounds of Tijuana brass. "Ole," I say, under my breath. Four parts to a bullfight, fates pre-determined, doom inescapable. Enjoy this tradition, these acts, this drama, your tragedy, but please don't be offended by the plastic mesh and wire substitution for the red-ripple cape. Raise... Aim... SWAT! Scrape... Four parts to a bullfight, with format slightly modified to fit my screen. Suddenly-planar angel, may your wings still lift you to your mound of brown pie in the sky. |