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Birth Of A National Trend

One of the best things about living in a small town is that some of the silly trendy stuff that shows up in the big metro areas like Dell City Texas (or is that Bell City?), will often pass this little burg by. For instance not too long ago I heard that stuffed chickens are all the rage in the more upscale homes and the posh neighborhoods of big towns like Rubio Iowa and Riggins Idaho (or is that Ruggins?). I'm not talking about chickens stuffed with food type materials that you eat for a Sunday dinner. I'm talking about chickens stuffed as in a taxidermic sort of way, and posed in a likely chicken posture (I understand that a chicken in the very act of laying an egg is particularly popular).

I saw one of these works of art while visiting a relative in the bustling municipality of Colbert Washington. I showed the polite interest required of a guest, but I nearly lost my eggs when I was informed that the specimen in question (a splendid example of the taxidermic art mind you), was purchased for (deleted)! Good heavens! For that kind of money I could have bought the whole chicken coop and had the darn things sit around the house laying actual eggs - and all the other chickenish things that chickens do.

But I wouldn't do that. Oh no. I don't follow trends, I set them. For instance, right now I'm trying to popularize my new sporting event. I call it puj! (you say it like this - puj!). Anyway, puj! is short for PickUp Jogging.

You see, what you do is you run along side a moving pickup while grasping the door sill (the window must be open), and scream in a raspy harsh sort of way. The screaming need not be articulate but it's pretty cool (according to the more accomplished pujers!), to scream "faster" or if the situation warrants, "slow down." Other wise a simple (but high volume), "whoo-hoo" is the acceptable norm.

The other night I was out practicing puj! - my son at the wheel of his new pickup with my daughter in the passenger seat - when we attracted the attention of some innocent bystanders near our home. I'm near sighted and I can't see worth a stuffed chicken in the twilight, but my daughter informed me that the innocent bystanders were staring. Really though I don't know how she could tell - she was hiding under the dash and I doubt she could see from there.

Anyhow, I've decided that I'm going to approach the powers that be and try to have puj! included as a regular event at our local fourth of July celebration. It would be a contest of course. The participants would be judged on their athletic ability, voice quality and volume, and hair style.

Because puj! is such a new sport, we may have some difficulty attracting enough participants to pay out much of a cash prize to the winner. But, not to worry, I've already thought of a highly desirable item that will be a fabulous substitute for cash: A stuffed chicken.

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