the Face of Everyman was overcome by a sudden attack of PTSD. The newly installed mist maker at the Foggy Bottoms Resort and Spa had recreated a scene in his mind which he had long suppressed. As Napoleon’s forces began a siege of Moscow they ran out of cannon balls. An enterprising gunner grabbed whatever rock was at hand . . .
Even after two hundred years the venerable sage was traumatized by flash backs to that terrible moment.
the Face of Everyman was not a “Happy Camper”. For some reason the kindly ol’ pensioner had installed a mist maker to create a dramatic effect and enhance the evening light show at the Foggy Bottoms Resort and Spa. E wasn’t sure that bubbles and foggy mists were called for a such a remote area along the Pacific flyway. “It won’t last a week.”
He assured himself and any others who might be listening.
Communications were difficult between birds of different species. the Face of Everyman tried to help whenever possible. Skylar asked where one might find the best place to forage for beetles in the Foggy Bottoms Resort and Spa. Red Robin responded by saying where the best worms could be found. E liked to think of himself as a conduit thru which the little people could make themselves understood. He answered each question with, he thought, helpful information.
The Amber Alert had startled everybody. Thruout the Foggy Bottoms Resort and Spa phones rang, klaxons blared. In the end, the Face of Everyman pieced together the whole story: Dad had removed the training wheels from lil’ Rodney‘s new bike. The fledgling Robin took a spill and fell into a bed of thick ferns. He could neither be seen nor heard for sometime. At last the sheriff’s posse reunited the frantic parents with their only heir. Mom insisted that the bike be sold on eBay that night.
The village transit authority had finally extended the trolley system out to the Foggy Bottoms Resort and Spa. They had failed to account for the surge of Friday afternoon rush hour commuters let alone that the concept of queuing up in an orderly fashion was an anathema to song birds. the Face of Everyman quickly lost any sense of caring and decided that he would instead turn his thoughts towards how he’d dress for dinner; perhaps his white sharkskin tuxedo.
The Wild Canary Sisters met at the Foggy Bottoms Resort and Spa on a regular basis to perfect their act and musical routines. Today, of all days, the Face of Everyman learned that the group was breaking up, disbanding forever. A look of shock and disbelief flashed across the face of the venerable sage. In a moment he regained composure and pretended that he had over heard nothing.
Everyday of his life Battling Eddie had fought his inner demons. Somehow he was tolerated by those at the Foggy Bottoms Resort and Spa. For several years the Face of Everyman had tried to help Eddie with his problem; but to no avail. At long last, the Earnest Hemingway biographies were removed from the resort library and the poolside area designated a “No Violence” zone.