Three of Sixteen (aka #14): Turkey Trot

 Preface: Alas, the time of this blog has come and gone. I've decided to go out in style, featuring 16 blogs, representing 16 years of blogging. I'm sad to say that some of the posts have NOT aged well. I'm updating posts so it improves the story while preserving the madness.

I picked this particular blog because the memory made me laugh. The words don't do justice to my actual imitation and said incident. It wasn't read by very many the first time around. Here is my third of 16 favorites: #14... from December 2016.

Turkey Trot

A walk is always a great way to clear the head--empty out the brain, leave the heavy stuff behind. I do love a good walk. 

With much on my mind, I went for a walk. A beautiful early winter day--nice. Frosty but not too frosty. Rosy cheeks kind of weather. Focusing on all the good, all the love, all the beauty, all the gifts, all the blessings in my life, I put one foot in front of the other. I leave behind the "load" I'm carrying. It is wonderful to be out and about, humming and singing and whistling.

As I'm walking along, I see a flock of turkeys headed my way. Neighborhood turkeys--you know, the kind that wander around the neighborhood now and again, the kind that don't care about traffic or people. Big turkeys. Scary killer turkeys. 

(Side note: There were no turkeys where I lived as a child. Rats, yes. Turkeys, no. This suburban turkey thing kind of freaked me out until I got used to the idea.)

The turkeys usually saunter off when people come near to them but they never seem to be in a hurry to do so. Heck, they barely rush as cars come zipping their way. This particular flock is crossing the street about a block ahead of me. Nine or ten of them. Definitely on the move but not interested in me.

Hold that thought--I have to take you back to Thanksgiving for a second. 

Imagine me seated at the kiddie table, just a few short days before this walk. I'm goofing around, gobbling as I believe a turkey gobbles. I mean, seriously--we all know how to gobble, right? Or, at least what people who are gobbling sound like? I'm a great gobbler.

The four-year-old seated next to me schools me on my lack of gobbling prowess. 

Nephew: [scowls at me and shakes his head].

Me: "What? I'm a pretty good gobbler, kid."

Nephew: [Angry glare, shaking his head NO.]

Me: [Stare back at him]. 

Me: [Give my best gobble].  "GOBBLE GOBBLE GOBBLE GOBBLE GOBBLE!"

Nephew [In a tone of frustration and with the most serious of faces]: 
"THAT IS *NOT* HOW A TURKEY GOBBLES!"

Nephew: [crosses his arms and glares at me/my seemingly pathetic gobble].

Me: [stunned silence, eyebrows raised]. "Well, since you seem to be the turkey-gobbling-professional of the party, how does a turkey gobble?"

Nephew: [Makes this noise which made me laugh quite loudly]. [Impossible to denotate in a blog]

God Bless America--now that I've heard him, he really does sound like a real turkey! I declare him the champion of gobbling champions. He is smitten with his new position at the table. 

We gobbled our way right through dinner and I've been gobbling ever since.

Do you see where this is going? 

I take a gander at these real-life turkeys and think," I wonder if his gobbling really works?"  

I let out my best turkey gobble, just as my nephew taught me. 

Of course I gobbled. Those are real turkeys. How could I not gobble? 

This is my moment of gobbling glory. I gobble-quite loudly--just like that kid taught me....

 ...the turkeys turn toward me...

and, start RUNNING at me!

Not walking. Not sauntering. THEY ARE RUNNING TOWARD ME!

(Side note: I did not know turkeys run. I am here to tell you they can run and they can run FAST.)

I've obviously gobbled something of which they did not like. 

They are JUMPING over each other to get to me. Their necks are shuffling back and forth as they run toward me and although I don't know what a turkey's usual demeanor is, I can tell that these birds are MAD.

At first, I think something must have spooked them but there is nothing anywhere near me. No cars, no other people, no dogs, no beeping, no barking. Nothing but me. 

I keep my eye on them, walking backwards as they race closer. The chick in the front isn't slowing down. 

I begin to panic. Do turkeys attack? Do they poke eyes out? What the hell DO they do when they attack? I'm talking to them in the most calming of voices I can muster, hands out in front of me.

Me: "Hey, hold on now. Everything is all right. I'm not threatening you."

Turkeys: [charging, not losing speed].

Me: "C'mon now, go ahead and turn around. It's all good. I didn't mean to insult your mother."

Turkeys: [Closer. Closer.]

Me: "I'M A VEGETARIAN! I DON'T EVEN EAT TURKEY!"

Turkeys: [Eight of the nine stop in their tracks.] 

But, the leader of the pack.... she's caught up to me. 

She is walking next to me. Hot damn, she is BIG. She's giving me the side eye.

I speed up, she speeds up.

I start to trot, she starts to trot.  

I stop walking, she stops walking. 

I start walking, she starts walking. 

Her pals have stayed put, quite to my relief. 

She's definitely the angry member of the group. Bitter, party of one. 

Just as I'm about to shit a brick... for some unknown reason, she FINALLY stops, gives me a final look and then turns around. 

I breathe a sigh of relief. I watch her walk back to her flock. I catch my breath and get ready to walk away.

You know what I did next, right? 

Of course you do. 

I gobbled again.

I HAD TO! I wanted to know if it really was my gobbling that riled up those feathered friends.   

I'm here to tell you that it was indeed my gobbling. Those birds were PISSED OFF. 

They were knocking each other out of the way in an effort to get to me. 

That lead bird was ON. MY. ASS. 

My walk began to feature a bit more cardiovascular action than originally planned. 

I now know that I can outrun a turkey, if said turkey decides I can run faster than them. 

I did not turn around until I'd run a few blocks. The hell if I was going to get my eyes poked out by an angry mob of the Thanksgiving dinner menu.

Thankfully, I was able to escape unscathed. Well, I was physically unscathed. I'm in need of therapy from the event....

...I will see turkeys in my nightmares for many nights to come.

As for the walk, I'd forgotten everything I had been thinking about when starting my walk. The "load" I'd been carrying is now far behind. You can't carry a load while running from frantic fowl. Everything had to be left behind, lest eyeballs be poked out. I thank the Universe for the message AND for letting me keep my eyeballs. Thank you, Universe for sending me a flock of killer turkey to get me back on track. It's important to let go...

...let go AND not gobble a real gobble at actual gobbling turkeys. Leave the burden behind, leave the gobbling to the actual animals.

Just to be safe, I'll stay out of that neighborhood for awhile.

I can't wait to tell that kid he is right. My gobble was all wrong until he set me straight. I'll assure him that he can do the gobbling, I'll do the watching and learning and I'll take video when the turkeys are chasing HIM, not me. 

I wonder if reindeer make a sound? Can't hurt to ask him....

Angry reindeer on the roof and lawn.... Maybe I'll keep my mouth shut.

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