Elrod had been a stellar student, 4.0 GPA, Eagle Scout and class president. Slowly his mental faculties failed him and he slipped into homelessness. The Foggy Bottoms Resort and Spa Mental Clinic could not help him. The charity of the Resort and Spa provided his only lifeline. Occasionally the Face of Everyman saved a little something to give to Elrod. Unfortunately today the venerable sage forgot.

Cold Feet

Since hatching Cecil had cold feet. Now with all this snow it was no different. Every landing was torture. Surely life should be more pleasant in the Foggy Bottoms Resort and Spa. the Face of Everyman suggested that he soak his feet in the thermal pools for fifteen minutes before foraging.


Songbird singing tryouts began auspiciously on a sunny afternoon at the Foggy Bottoms Resort and Spa. Mullard one of the oldest employees, was asked to be first. His repertoire was vast but he stuck with a few old favorites: “Ode to a Spring Morning” and “This be my nesting territory.” The judges gave him three nines; a score hard to beat. the Face of Everyman was pleased to see that festivities were off to a good start.


A new fad began in the Foggy Bottoms Resort and Spa. Songbirds would flash their underbellies at the Face of Everyman. He would then interpret the ink blot image presented. He had spent time studying with Hermann Rorschach in Switzerland over a hundred years ago. It seems like just yesterday to the venerable sage.


Once again tempers flared over a perceived sense of entitlement.  Should the Spotted Towhee go first because he nested on the ground and probably was dirtier?  And should the White-crowned Sparrow go next as he built his nest just a few feet above ground?  Lastly should pushy immigrants, the House Sparrow, no better than English Starlings, be allowed to stare down decent common folks?  the Face of Everyman held his tongue but resorted to his mind control abilities to plant in the mind of each guest that the the Foggy Bottoms Resort and Spa was a sanctuary for all and trivial attitudes should be left at the boundary.


Lefty had at long last caught up with Mullard.  They were archenemies.  the Face of Everyman defused the confrontation by inviting each to sign up for the Foggy Bottoms Resort and Spa Saturday Night Fights.  Grudge fights were usually billed just before the title matches.  Personal quarrels worked the crowd into a frenzy; if there was one.


Momma was a strong believer in cleanliness.  Baby Silvester was trying to be good boy but the waters of the Foggy Bottoms Resort and Spa felt like ice.  She kept insisting that he scrub behind his ears.  Dad was dripping wet and his teeth were chattering which only added to the drama of the family’s morning ablutions.  the Face of Everyman tried to look away.

Low Tide

Tide tables were almost impossible to construct for the magical place known as the Foggy Bottoms Resort and Spa.  This month of January contained two full moons which confounded even the most sophisticated super computers.  Scooter had hoped to find something interesting.  Alas, the tide was flooding back.  the Face of Everyman suggested he return about 2 AM and bring a flashlight.


Mullard was enjoying the warm waters of the Foggy Bottoms Resort and Spa.  He shared the bright morning sunlight with the Face of Everyman but such pleasures were not to last.  Cheeky, the squirrel, wanted to play tag.  For some inexplicable and ungodly reason Mullard was it.  For now “M” sought refuge on a nearby chimney top.