Profiles in Nature 29

Rumor has it that the person who usually does these profiles is currently on hour 14 of a 1 hour escape room. He is shouting through the door to the now empty lobby that “I’ve almost got it!” And “NO HINTS!”. That person should be back for the next Profile in Nature. It has fallen to me to perform this task. You’d think that I would know something about nature – or at least have a decent profile, but no – “nature” is that really big room on the other side of my front door, and my head is shaped like a forgotten potato in the back pantry.

This is a bird. He is a big bird, (not that Big Bird, but he did audition for the part.) a big, brown bird sitting on a wood thingy, who can’t believe you barged right into the bathroom while he was trying to figure out the bidet. Either that or Martha brought up the whole “Where is the missing egg?” issue again. How was he supposed to keep track of all three while the game was on? You know what? Martha can go jump off a lake! These are very sharp foot thingys and this hard mouth part can cut through molten steel when angered, so she better just stop bringing that up. This bird has a wingspan, and could fly, but like so many today, they are all waiting longer to get their licenses. It’s a generational thing, who has time for flying anyway? Blame it on social media, everyone else does. He did not realize that flying was even an option until late in life. The problem started with coddling parents (who did okay giving him roots but forgot about the other half of that quote), then there was the whole Erica Jong-thing, and finally, as a young adult, he was too embarrassed to attend flight school with the other hatchlings. (By the way, that’s why he initially contact the Children’s Television Network about a role where he could keep his feet on the ground at all times.) Finally, he left the nest and started hanging with the cool birds who knew how to fly, but couldn’t be bothered. That’s where he met Martha. Lately, he starting getting into preening, but he watched a David Attenborough documentary on peacocks, so that idea bit the ghost. The most discouraging revelation, thanks to Martha, was that he didn’t have to be a chicken to be hen-pecked. “What? No, we had plenty of Pringles, nobody ate the egg!” He doesn’t have a lot to look forward to, but sometimes, that’s the way the ball crumbles.

If you join us next week, hopefully the person who usually does this will be back, but if not, you will be introduced to a bug.

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