Turns out that comedy comes in the weirdest ways. No, I didn't forget ten things that I wanted to forget. I merely changed the title of the post. Blogger took over from there. I don't remember what I wanted to forget.
|2006 Miss Nude Russet Potato Contest|
In the east bedroom of our converted schoolhouse Willy Coyote is propped against the back wall. He's named Willy because he's not too clever. There is a smaller version on a shelf I call Tammy Wylette. Willy wears a twenty two bullet necklace and has wires in his ears to make them stand up straight. His nose droops forever When I bought the thing, it was an outrageous expense. The kids couldn't care less.
The coyote figures prominently in my youth. Saturday cartoons were a must watch. I rooted for the coyote. Many frustrating moments were spent enduring his foiled attempts to snatch a feathered meal. Living in Arizona, I got to see Roadrunners live and in action. I admired them greatly for their foraging habits and curious way of running. Observing quail families-mom, pop and 17 f feather balls walking across the cul-de-sac down our arroyo was another real treat. I wear a Phoenix Coyote baseball cap when I get dressed up. The double irony: he's the mascot for an Arizona ice hockey team and a symbol of the trickster.
When my daughter attended the School of the Art Institute in Chicago, she lived in a building purchased from Hugh Hefner. Yes, the original Playboy Mansion. Weird things happened there. She was not happy living there. I gave her a coyote tooth necklace(a real tooth) to ward off the trickster. Coyote is also famous among western Native Americans as the sexual buffoon. I'm not sure it helped ward off weirdness as my shy, blond haired, blue-eyed daughter now wears a snake tattoo down her left arm. But that's my own perspective.
|A disgusted Willy Coyote|