ROBERT VALENTINE

Robert Valentine is a professional Speaker, Storyteller, and Senior Lecturer at Murray State University in the Department of Journalism and Mass Communications. You can visit his website at http://www.robertvalentine.com.



Turkey Day

Listen to the audio of this commentary here. 

LAST YEAR, AMERICA OBSERVED A MILESTONE. ACCORDING TO THE U.S. CENSUS BUREAU (THE SOURCE OF 38% OF ALL STATISTICS), THE POPULATION OF THE UNITED STATES HAS RECENTLY REACHED THE 300,000,000 MARK. THE TURKEYS SHOULD BE QUAKING IN THEIR BOOTS.  OF COURSE, EVEN THE MOST CIVILIZED OF TURKEYS DO NOT USUALLY WEAR BOOTS. IT IS A TRADITION AMONG TURKEYS TO AVOID BOOTS BECAUSE BOOTS – EVEN SPECIALLY DESIGNED RUNNING BOOTS – TEND TO SLOW THEM DOWN. TURKEYS ARE FAMOUS FOR THEIR SPEED.

HERE ARE TWO OTHER LITTLE BULLETS OF TURKEY INFORMATION THAT MAY ASTOUND YOU: 1. THE TURKEY WAS ONCE PROPOSED AS OUR NATIONAL BIRD. 2. TURKEY WAS PROBABLY NOT THE CENTER OF THE FEAST AT THE FIRST THANKSGIVING. SO, AS WE SEARCH FOR GRANDMA’S RECIPE FOR OKRA DRESSING, LET’S TAKE ANOTHER LOOK AT THE ROLE OF THE TURKEY (AS OPPOSED TO THE TURKEY ROLL) IN OUR OBSERVATION OF THE BLINDINGLY OBVIOUS FACT THAT THE SUMMER IS FAIRLY WELL ENDED.

1. THE TURKEY WAS ONCE PROPOSED AS OUR NATIONAL BIRD. THIS IS ONE OF THE JUICY LITTLE TIDBITS OF HISTORY THAT IS USUALLY TROTTED OUT AT THIS SEASON OF THE YEAR TO ALLOW NEWSREADERS TO ADD A BIT OF LEVITY TO THEIR BREAKING NEWS ABOUT THE LOCAL TURKEY FARM WHICH (HOLD YOUR BREATH) RAISES TURKEYS! HISTORY TEACHERS DROP IT INTO LECTURES TO GIVE A BIT OF HUMANITY TO THE ROUGH OLD DAYS, AND I USE IT IN THIS COMMENTARY. THERE IS NO OTHER KNOWN USE FOR THIS FACT. AND IT IS A FACT THAT, IN THE EARLY DAYS OF AMERICAN SOCIETY, BENJAMIN FRANKLIN OF PENNSYLVANIA PROPOSED TO THE NATION THAT WE SHOULD HAVE A NATIONAL BIRD. APPARENTLY LOTS OF COUNTRIES HAD NATIONAL BIRDS, AND FRANKLIN BELIEVED THAT WE SHOULD HAVE ONE, TOO. HE WANTED SOMETHING THAT WAS A REGAL AS THE PEACOCK OF INDIA, OR AS FIERCE AS THE AUSTRIAN SEA EAGLE, OR AS PLEASANT AS THE FRENCH NATIONAL BIRD, BRIGETTE BARDOT.

FRANKLIN OBSERVED THAT THE TURKEY IS A WILY CREATURE WITH KEEN EYESIGHT – CHARACTERISTICS THAT WERE HIGHLY PRIZED IN FRANKLIN’S TIME. A WILD TURKEY CAN RUN UP TO 55 MILES PER HOUR, EVEN WITHOUT A SPORTS SHOE ENDORSEMENT, AND WITHOUT ANY BOOTS TO QUAKE IN. ALSO, ONE TOM TURKEY USUALLY HAS A NUMBER OF FEMALES IN HIS LITTLE GROUP. THIS TRAIT ALSO APPEALED TO FRANKLIN, IF YOU KNOW WHAT I MEAN (WINK). BUT FRANKLIN WAS OVER-RULED. THE SPECIAL SELECT COMMITTEE ON THE ELECTION OF YE OLDE NATIONAL BIRD, AFTER IT RETURNED FROM A 4-YEAR TRIP TO VISIT OTHER COUNTRIES TO CONDUCT A SERIES OF HEARINGS ABOUT THEIR NATIONAL BIRDS, DECIDED ON THE EAGLE. THIS IS PROBABLY BECAUSE THE EAGLE WAS THE ONLY CHILD OF A PRETTY PROMINENT FAMILY IN NEW ENGLAND, AND WAS KNOWN TO LURK IN THE HALLS OF THE CONGRESS (ALTHOUGH THEY ONLY HAD ONE HALL IN THOSE DAYS, SO THAT PHRASE SHOULD BE, “THE HALL OF THE CONGRESS”) AND BUY DRINKS FOR THE VARIOUS REPRESENTATIVES. THE TURKEY, WHO SPENT ALL OF HIS TIME OUT THERE RUNNING AT THE LEGAL SPEED LIMIT AND HANGING ABOUT WITH HIS HAREM, HAD NO POLITICAL CLOUT WHATSOEVER, AND PROBABLY WOULD HAVE SUFFERED THE “LOWEST APPROVAL RATING OF ANY BIRD SINCE THE DODO,” IF THEY HAD HAD APPROVAL RATINGS IN THOSE DAYS.

2. TURKEY WAS PROBABLY NOT THE CENTER OF THE FEAST AT THE FIRST THANKSGIVING. WHEN YOU THINK ABOUT IT, THIS MAKES SENSE. AS ONE INTERNET AUTHORITY (THAT IS, SOMEONE WITH A WEBSITE) PUTS IT, “DEER MEAT AND WILD FOWL” ARE THE ONLY THINGS THAT WE KNOW WITH CERTAINTY THAT WERE ON THAT FIRST TABLE. THE WAMPANOAGS (THE PILGRIMS’ NEXT-DOOR NEIGHBORS) WERE ALSO KNOWN TO BE PRETTY GOOD FARMERS, AND UNQUESTIONABLY BROUGHT MAIZE, WHICH THE PILGRIMS COULD NOT PRONOUNCED WITHOUT MAKING THE WAMPANOAGS COLLAPSE IN A LAUGHING HEAP, AND SO CALLED IT “CORN,” AFTER THEY FAVORITE KIND OF HUMOR. FRANKLY, THE PILGRIMS COULDN’T PRONOUNCE “WAMPANOAGS,” EITHER, AND SO WERE ALLOWED TO REFER TO THEM AS “THE WASHINGTON REDSKINS.”

WHAT DID THEY EAT INSTEAD OF TURKEY, YOU ASK? WELL, HISTORIANS SUGGEST THAT THEY PROBABLY HAD LOBSTER, GOOSE, DUCK, SEAL, EEL, AND COD SINCE THESE WERE THE MEATS THAT WERE IN ABUNDANCE IN THAT PLACE AT THAT TIME. REMEMBER, THEY WERE IN NEW ENGLAND, WHICH IS EVEN FURTHER NORTH THAN NEW JERSEY, BUT HAS FEWER CASINOS. THERE IS NO DOUBT, HOWEVER, THAT THE PHRASE, “PLEASE PASS THE TURKEY” IS MUCH MORE APPETIZING THAN “HEY! HAND US ANOTHER SLAB O’ EEL, WILL YOU?” FOR THIS, WE GIVE THANKS. WELL, THAT’S MY STORY AND I’M STICKING TO IT LIKE CARBS ON THIGHS. WISHING YOU A PLEASANT THANKSGIVING FROM WKMS, I’M ROBERT VALENTINE. WHO’S GOT THE CRANBERRY SAUCE?

Punkin

 

Listen to the audio of this commentary here.

 

Sometimes, long after a respected teacher or a loved one is gone from your company, something will happen that brings back a beloved voice. It may be so vivid that, for a moment, you feel the need to look around to see if the impossible is happening. It happened to me, just the other day. I head, very clearly, my father's voice. Dad passed away in 1989, but the sensation of hearing his resonant baritone was so real, that I turned to look. Of course, there was no one there, but his simple question echoed: "Why do you think we need a dog in the house?" My father, who tried to raise the money for new shoes, school books, clothes and bicycles for four boys during the 50s and 60s, had the strangest idea that these boys had a priority over goldfish, cats, hamsters, white mice and dogs.

 

He had no enmity for pets, but he didn't feel that they fit into the budget of a growing family. He especially had no desire to clean up after an animal, having done so pretty extensively as a boy, and he was pretty clear in his opinion that our mother was not going to spend any time caring for four-legged beast when she had four unruly monkeys of her own. I never heard him say, "If God wanted dogs in houses, he would have given them training as carpenters," but I'm pretty sure that's because discussions on where pets would live ended 'way before we got to the "making reasoned arguments" stage.' So, when we acquired a dog this spring, it was only natural that I would voice that same sentiment.

 

"Why do we need a dog in the house?" So, we agreed that the dog would live happily in nature, if a palatial cushion and exclusive ownership of the back porch and enough food and water to start a small nation could be considered "nature." The dog - and we're sure it is a dog - seems to be of a recently pedigreed line. To look at him, your first impression is that he is a cross between the noble black Labrador retriever, and a boa constrictor. Some have suggested that there might be a strong connection in his family history to the corgi, or the dachshund, but others have suggested that, while mother might have been a black lab, father was probably a considerable length of 18-inch drainage pipe.

 

According to his pedigree papers from the AKADC - That's the Almo Kat and Dog Club - his official registered name is Orange Prince of Halloween who Slays the Infidel with Slashing Fangs of Steel. Naturally, around the palace, we refer to him as Punkin, the more informal sobriquet which he bore when he came to live with us. Punkin is a noble beast and does everything we expect of him - both the good and the bad. He can fetch a ball, so long as it pleases him, and will eat on command if hungry. He will not drink from the toilet, but that may be more on account of the challenges offered by short legs than a willingness to comply with spoken instructions.

 

After I left for a weekend business trip recently, I returned to find that the decision of dogs living happily in nature had been altered slightly, so that Punkin now has limited privileges in the house. I say, "limited," because he is expressly forbidden to sit on the chandelier or to sleep in the middle of the dining room table. Otherwise, he seems to have the run of the place. I'm pretty sure my father would just shake his head and put a massaging hand to his forehead. I know that's what I did. I'm just hopeful that I'll get to keep exclusive rights to my side of the bed and my little chair at the kitchen table. Of course, I could always move to the back porch. There's a nice bowl and pillow out there.

 

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