The days were getting shorter and the leaves were dropping. It was fall and what a summer we had. We drove thru town. It was a humid airless night and cruising in the convertible was an evening ritual that changed the muggy weather into a breezy pleasure.
At dusk the town started cookin’. People came outside to sit on their porches, old guys out on their significant wooden chairs drinking whiskey and beer, barbecues out in force filling the air with the aroma of cooked meat and smoke.
In the heat of the day people stayed in their homes safe from the humidity in air conditioned comfort. Around dusk out they came, drifting from their wood houses to take in the cool breeze of the evening.
We preferred a faster mode. Our red convertible with its jet black top, was a classy, flashy get-away car with attitude. On hot summer evenings we would race through town and take in the sights.
Now there was a reason for us not sitting out on our porch. We were already the talk of the town and couldn’t just sit around, people would stare. After a hot day, I was not in the mood to be stared at. I grew up in this town and everyone knew of my malady. For the most part I was proud, but in the summer the tourists would make a big fuss and point, laugh and try to take snapshots of me.
I will get to the point. I was born with a duck head attached to my head. Removal would be impossible - it would kill me. This was a living breathing duck head. It ate, it quacked. It was part of me. For the most part I was proud to be unique. I was famous in my town and I liked it that way. I was a bit of a ham.
On those hot summer nights, my cat Winslow, Lila the duck head and I would go on a high speed tour of the town to get some relief from the heat and drive fast!
The town actually presented me with a red convertible Porsche. Instead of the key to the city, I got a car. I was being thanked for all the community service that I had performed throughout the years. I worked closely with the police department. On Mondays and Wednesdays, I cooked meals for the prisoners in the county jail. I cooked both lunch and dinner including homemade pie. I was a good cook and the inmates enjoyed their meals immensely. I would also make food for the policeman and I think that is why they let me speed through town! I would race around. I never got a ticket and sometimes I would even pose for pictures.
Lila and I were the show stopping event. I was the bread and she was the butter. Winslow was the sidekick. I might look strange but I have learned that there is an upside to everything. Riding in my red convertible I am fabulous.
At dusk the town started cookin’. People came outside to sit on their porches, old guys out on their significant wooden chairs drinking whiskey and beer, barbecues out in force filling the air with the aroma of cooked meat and smoke.
In the heat of the day people stayed in their homes safe from the humidity in air conditioned comfort. Around dusk out they came, drifting from their wood houses to take in the cool breeze of the evening.
We preferred a faster mode. Our red convertible with its jet black top, was a classy, flashy get-away car with attitude. On hot summer evenings we would race through town and take in the sights.
Now there was a reason for us not sitting out on our porch. We were already the talk of the town and couldn’t just sit around, people would stare. After a hot day, I was not in the mood to be stared at. I grew up in this town and everyone knew of my malady. For the most part I was proud, but in the summer the tourists would make a big fuss and point, laugh and try to take snapshots of me.
I will get to the point. I was born with a duck head attached to my head. Removal would be impossible - it would kill me. This was a living breathing duck head. It ate, it quacked. It was part of me. For the most part I was proud to be unique. I was famous in my town and I liked it that way. I was a bit of a ham.
On those hot summer nights, my cat Winslow, Lila the duck head and I would go on a high speed tour of the town to get some relief from the heat and drive fast!
The town actually presented me with a red convertible Porsche. Instead of the key to the city, I got a car. I was being thanked for all the community service that I had performed throughout the years. I worked closely with the police department. On Mondays and Wednesdays, I cooked meals for the prisoners in the county jail. I cooked both lunch and dinner including homemade pie. I was a good cook and the inmates enjoyed their meals immensely. I would also make food for the policeman and I think that is why they let me speed through town! I would race around. I never got a ticket and sometimes I would even pose for pictures.
Lila and I were the show stopping event. I was the bread and she was the butter. Winslow was the sidekick. I might look strange but I have learned that there is an upside to everything. Riding in my red convertible I am fabulous.
