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Life Arts    H4'ed 1/28/17

TurkeyMan--Part 2--The Absolutely True Story of a Part-Time Indian Terrorist

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Allan Wayne
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"Indians do not cry over parakeets. No warrior would."

"I said turkey, not parakeet!--I mean, parrot!--You're trying to confuse me! God, you're stubborn!"

"Sounds like you know a lot"--He rested on the stump--"about birds."

"My grandmother had a parrot!" I screeched. "A green one! Isn't Mother Earth green? At least in the summer! Why the hell am I parroting about parrots! I also had a parakeet when I was a kid! His name was Tweedles! He bit the hell out of me!"

Butch did not answer. He was asleep. My head was spinning. I picked up a fir branch and swatted at the mosquitoes. They never quit in Alaska. All I needed was more buzzing in my brain. In the morning I would settle it.

I knew Butch and I would fly into nearby Ketchikan the next day, to blow off some steam, and get away from it all. Or so I thought, until we stepped off the float plane, and headed down the street toward the bars. At a newspaper stand, a photo stood out.

Nixon Brezhnev
Nixon Brezhnev
(Image by Charles del Vecchio)
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Butch stopped, transfixed in a blue flannel shirt. I swear, his face seemed pale.

"Look at those turkeys," I said. "Think he'll resign?"

"Give me the bird!" Butch commanded.

"What?" Figuring Butch had again lost his marbles, I started to flip him off, then thought better, and carefully unfolded the turkey article from my wallet. "My turkey?"--I protested.

With trembling fingers, Butch pressed it against Nixon's photo. "Vecchio!" he said. "Del Vecchio!

The words sounded like Italian Pizza, which is an oxymoron in itself. Nevertheless, I could see the credits for both Washington Post photos were for a Charles del Vecchio. Apparently, the same big-time, White House, photographer took both images: The Watergate-hounded Nixon--apparently was on par--with the nefarious TurkeyMan. The absconded gobbler was no small-potatoes bird. The photos were taken about a month apart.

Butch and I looked at each other. Apparently, we were--I mean he was--on the radar.

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Conceived on west coast, born on east coast, returned to northwest spawning grounds. Never far from water.


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