Phidias was visibly upset. All this talk of Turkey and dressing, Sweet Potato Pie, and such was distressing. Management at the Foggy Bottoms Resort and Spa must not have clue about the dietary habits of their guests and the locals. the Face of Everyman tried not to show emotion as he fantasized about giblet gravy and sharing the wishbone with his neighbor and mystical colleague, the Goddess of Perpetual Hunger. Somewhere in the background the venerable sage could hear “P” make his pitch for healthful Thanksgiving Day Smoothies.
Alcander came over to apologize for all the ruckus that disturbed the afternoon nap of the Face of Everyman. Even though the Foggy Bottoms Resort and Spa is a UN designated sanctuary, nests beyond the perimeter are fair game for marauders. “A” recounted how it took about five crows to fight off a freebooting fledgling. “an Eagle at that.” “A” said with pride.
Conway approached the Face of Everyman more on his own behalf than his narrow constituency. He had learned that an ear mark in the new tax bill would place a tariff on out of state Crawdad tails and offshore farmed garden slugs. Many locals in Ward 3 of the Foggy Bottoms Resort and Spa relied upon “C” to maintain the status quo. Could “E” bring pressure to quash this onerous and unwarranted tax grab? On this volatile subject the venerable sage remained mute as he was often wont to do.
The newest bird to find sanctuary at the Foggy Bottoms Resort and Spa seemed nice enough, except . . . he kept calling the Face of Everyman, “Bub” and “Old Timer”. Worst yet, his habit of announcing his arrival as he descends through the thick Fall canopy screeching and yelling as though he were Tarzan, of the Apes. There seems no end of noise this creature can create. The venerable sage knew that nap times were going to be “catch as catch can” from this week forward.
It became fashionable at the Foggy Bottoms Resort and Spa to have your DNA analyzed. Now Gaylord wished that he hadn’t. the Face of Everyman could have spared “G” the expense. One glance and the venerable sage could have been as accurate as the laboratory computer. A high percentage was House sparrow, followed by lesser amounts Grosbeaks and Finches. The “kicker” was a trace of Cedar Waxwing. Poor Gaylord, his grandfather took away his trust fund, golf club privileges and wrote him out of the will.
Public drunkenness wasn’t a social problem until the rainy season. Pineapple Clippers brought warm Pacific rains to the Foggy Bottoms Resort and Spa. The kindly ol’ pensioner was kept busy disposing of fermenting grains. Those songbirds that cache their food knew where to return to the intoxicating nectar of DYI Okolehao. the Face of Everyman tried to remain detached from this short lived phenomenon.
The much anticipated Haiku contest at the Foggy Bottoms Resort and Spa was an overwhelming success. Each contestant followed the ancient and revered 5/7/5 syllable pattern. Mullard who had been drinking in the Bar felt that he could do about as well as anyone. And so he began: ’Twas brillig, and the slithy toves Did gyre and gimble in the wabe. the face of Everyman could not get him to stop his recitation. When finished “M” received a standing ovation from the gathering of poetry lovers. The venerable sage shuddered and pretended that nothing untoward had occurred.