Thank you.. it's funny when people get to the end and realize that we ate our dog.. LOL
it's also almost hilarious when you see someone ring the neck of a bird like that, especially if there's someone there that hadn't seen that before.. my cousins from Oregon freaked out when we rang the necks of chickens for my grandma.
have a good one Tim.. and I look forward to our Fantasy League next season.. in just under 90 days from now..
____________
From: Tim P <tbone68134@yahoo.
To: NASCAR-Group@
Sent: Thu, November 26, 2009 11:42:42 AM
Subject: Re: [NASCAR-Group] The Perfect Thxgving
Thanks for this great story... Brought back some great memories from grandmas house where we would stretch the neck of a turkey, duck or chicken across a stunp with a couple of nails in it.
Tim 68134
--- On Thu, 11/26/09, polt8115 <poltergeist8@ sbcglobal. net> wrote:
From: polt8115 <poltergeist8@ sbcglobal. net>
Subject: [NASCAR-Group] The Perfect Thxgving
To: NASCAR-Group@ yahoogroups. com
Date: Thursday, November 26, 2009, 10:56 AM
It was Thanksgiving, 1975, we had the usual traditional thanksgiving
dinner. We lived right next to scenic highway 10, between Greenwood and
Booneville. At the end of the festivities that year, my dad brought out
a surprise. A little tom turkey. A LIVE little tom turkey. It was our
job to work and raise this bird for Thanksgiving 1976. Here's what we
learned about raising this turkey:
1) raise them like a dog, they act like a dog.
2) talk to them in a high regsiter/pitch voice, they gobble everytime.
Guys, this bird would follow us around. Raising one by hand, we learned
that it loses fear of you. It would run from its own shadow when other
people were around. Hell, it'd be there when we got off the bus after
school. As time wore on, into Spring, then Summer, this dude got BIG. He
also got aggressive. Our dog we had at the time, an English Sheep dog,
named Charlie, wouldn't mess with the bird anymore. I think they came to
a mutual agreement with regards to that whole food chain and 'circle of
life' bit. Then, school started again, and shortly thereafter, Autumn,
and then in no time, it was November 1976. My brothers, sister, and I
became very worried for Tom. (yeah, we named him Tom.) So, when the day
before Thanksgiving rolled around, we begged and pleaded with our dad to
not "do the deed" and kill our beloved bird. Now, when I look back, it
would have been a rather juicy, well seasoned, and beautiful when
surrounded by mashed potatoes, cranberry sauce, and stuffing beloved
bird. However, I'm hungry typing this so shut up and keep reading..
gosh..
Thanksgiving day, 1976: Judgement Day.
We knew there was only one thing to do.. that was go out, find the bird,
hide him, and throw ourselves on the mercies of my loving father. Yes,
to this day, he is still a very warm loving father you guys. However, we
knew he was raised very country, very poor, and would have no problem
killing and cleaning a turkey, as they had done that many times when he
was a child. Nevertheless, we stuck to our guns, we pleaded with him,
even offered him what allowance money we had, which I think amounted to
about .72 cents. He told us he would think about it, and told us to give
Tom over to him. Seems that the standoff thing only works if you have
the upper hand. Since a 25lb turkey is about as easy to hide as a zit on
the end of your nose, we relented, as too, my sister was yelling in a
high pitch with the bird, making it gobble, while um.. 'hiding' with the
bird, about three feet away from us, behind a bale of hay.
Minutes seemed like hours. Hours like days. Dad finally relented, and we
did not eat our beloved Tom. He gave us a choice, and our beloved Tom
LIVED. We kept ol Tom for about five years. It was really nice.
I got to tell ya.. English Sheep dog don't taste bad for dinner either.
GOTCHA!!!
HAPPY THANKSGIVING YOU GUYS.. I DO LOVE YOU ALL.
moi
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