November 4, 2010

There’s an age-old joke and its myriad deviations  about chickens and roads that I never really got before moving to Western New York.  Chickens have always been in chicken houses and barnyards where I come from, not out in the street, playing (drum roll please) chicken.  But there are at least three places which I drive by regularly where there are, for a lack of a better word, street chickens. No they don’t have leather and chains, and I didn’t see any Pall Mall’s rolled up in their t-shirts.  Come to think of it, they weren’t wearing t-shirts.  Just showing off all their chicken muscles and chest feathers.  But these chickens were playing awfully close to the road.  If they were kids you know some parents would be screaming at them, but they are chickens, so nobody says boo.

There was, undoubtedly, a rooster about as well.  Why else would any sober-thinking, right-minded chicken take such risks.  Trying to attract attention, that’s what it is.  I wonder if risk-taking chickens taste better than hot-house chickens who spend their entire lives inside crowded chicken houses?

Of course this raises another issue to metagrobalize.  If they are risk-takers – are they really chicken?  What do you call a chicken if it isn’t chicken?  How do you get a chicken to go where you want it to go?  Pullet.

These street chickens seem bigger than normal chickens, but maybe that’s because they are closer.  Or perhaps, only the sturdier breeds of chicken survive the close encounters with the rest of the world.

So what big theological or existential lessons did I learn from a bunch of rogue roosters and the girls that follow them?  Nothing really, except that if you want to appear larger, stronger, braver than you really are, you have to live closer to danger.  If you want to do something big for yourself, your family or for God, you have to stray from the comforts of the chicken house.  The food will taste dustier, and you will be noticed, so make sure of your calling, and watch out for cars.

Advertisements

One Response to “”

  1. Sue said

    Tim, this post reminds me of a quote that I love: “If you see a turtle on a fencepost, you KNOW he had help getting there.”

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: