Freddogg Off The Chain

Last night I was the spontaneous perpetrator of the perfect crime. Real intelligence involves figuring out the not so obvious when all the clues are present. Perhaps 1 in 200 people puts it all together and they become the genius of that group. When no one in a crowd of 500 can figure it out then you have what the Anthropologists call “High School Wrestling Fans.”
The match was over and the home team held on with a dramatic pin in the final bout to secure the victory. Grapplers were taking up tape used to connect the three section oily mats and young kids were rolling up the mats like large and color rubberized blunts. I was interviewing the head coach.
Scattering about the yellow rubberized floor were hundreds of black things and assistant coaches and interested parents looked down and pondered, ”What is that stuff and where did it come from?”
One coach had the nerve to pick up a carcass, rolled it between his thumb and forefinger, still had no idea, looked at me and said, ”You’re the guy who knows everything, what is this stuff.”
“It looks like a black oiled sunflower seed,” I said. “It is to the wild bird what salted striped ones are to the baseball player. Speaking of baseball, can we get a little chatter in here, a little bit of the bingo-bango, C’mon Bobby, C’mon Bobby , not your pitch, pick out one you like, be patient, “C’Mon Bobby! Swing batter!”
I was wearing my Gold’s Gym pull over rain slicker the perfect disguise for the sports writing grandfather and his alter ego “Big Loser Boy.” When I pulled the jacket over my head waiting to do post match interviews all these sunflower seeds fell out of the pocket. Evidently when you fill up a bird feeder you shouldn’t stand below it and catch the overflow in your freaking pocket without knowing it.
Years before I had done a similar maneuver reflective of one standard deviation below dull normal shaking a product called ‘Squirrel Away” into the bird feeder. I was quickly blinded, staggering and screaming, putting down the house in search of a hose bib. Finally, I was power washing my own head and was joyous as beams of natural light kaleidoscoped back into my Looney Tooned pin headed life.

I found Bernie the Chief custodian and former track athlete of mine. Bernie can do anything mechanical and in the carpentry category, he drives a pick up fishes and crabs. He is a big old 6'3" 300 pound black redneck and he can’t look at me without laughing. I asked him for a broom and dust pan because I didn’t think it was right not to own up. “Bird seed Fredman? Hey Jake, Fredman threw bird seed on the floor.”
They told me not to worry that they would get it but it was too much fun watching all those fans circling and trying to figure out how it got there to sweep it up right away.
I started to talk and they laughed saying I was the funniest person they had ever met and to go just go on home with my birdseed self.

Birddogg Fred