Backlash - follow up to "Death on the Farm"

If it was only this simple to fix.

Wheeuu!  Did I ever get blow-back from the article I wrote about the unfortunate destruction of some wild bird eggs on our property!  (See previous post, if you must).  I heard from friends, relatives, and strangers about how badly they felt after reading it. (I actually was shocked that some of my friends could read).  After the story came out I was lambasted for entangling my wife, the Fetching Mrs. Intrepid Traveler, with these sordid details.  (I heard that from the Fetching Mrs. Intrepid Traveler).  

I went to sleep last night with all this on my mind, and had a terrible nightmare about it.  I woke up in a pool of sweat, choking and struggling to breathe. (OK, this could have been because the cat was sleeping on my face).  But the dream seemed very real.  This is part of what I remember:

In my dream, Al Sharpton was conducting a news event saying he was representing the estate of Humpty Dumpty.  Sharpton said my mis-treatment of the eggs was the continuation of a pattern of mis-treatment that white men have been doing to eggs for hundreds of years.  And he was here to collect reparations.

Then, the Easter Bunny drew a red line around our property and banned us for life from ever getting to dye Easter eggs again.  So, of course if we don’t have boiled eggs to dye this meant that deviled eggs were out of the question.  And apparently the Easter Bunny was also indignant about my preference to bite the ears off of chocolate bunnies.  But that should have been part of another dream.  In a related story, it was announced that I have been banned for life from attending any more White House Easter Egg Rolls.  

Our favorite Chinese food restaurant informed me I can no longer order egg rolls.  “Only fo goo customer”, I was told.

Local villagers stormed the gate of our property carrying pitchforks and Tiki torches (on sale at the Dollar store for .99) in a menacing manner, until another rain storm put out the torch’s flames.  Soggy villagers without their lighted torches, are not nearly as menacing, so they quietly disbursed without incident. 

The Soup Nazi from the old Seinfeld TV show appeared in my dream and knocked me on the forehead with his ladle and said “No Egg Drop Soup for you!”

Woody Woodpecker showed up and pecked the words Baby Killer in the wooden siding of our house. 

A herd of domesticated hogs marched in unison (they seemed to be goose stepping), carrying frying pans like weapons.  They were chanting something about I get no more bacon since I mistreat eggs.  I had no idea there was solidarity there.

You know how PETA protests the wearing of real furs by sending beautiful naked models an event wearing fake furs?  Well that didn’t happen in my dream.  They sent, instead, a naked Rosanne Barr, covered with powdered eggs.  She dared to jump in the lake and rinse off to punish me further.  That would have just been too much.

Then, the Iron Chef stormed into our kitchen with a camera crew, shooting a live TV broadcast.  He immediately berated my culinary skills, and took away our egg whisk.

My nightmare continued when I saw a giant yellowish slimy omelet oozing its way slowly thru my house, like the horror movie, the Blob, absorbing everything it touched.  I escaped only by luring the omelet blob to a nearby IHOP and changing the breakfast special to omelets.

Near the end of the dream, disgraced NBC newsreader Brian Williams appeared.  It was his first broadcast after his suspension for his exaggerated claims while reporting in the Middle East. He said “I have never heard such a horrendous story”, referring to my post.  He went on to say that “it was a shame and tragedy for those eggs to have been wasted”.  He continued with “back when I was inventing the Polio Vaccine I used eggs to propagate the vaccine”. 

And the worst indignation was when the Fetching Mrs. Intrepid Traveler told me “this is why I don’t have your blogsite linked to my blogsite.  I never know what you are going to write and I don’t want ANYONE to know there is a connection between us!”

Lost in all the focus on the wild bird eggs that were destroyed was any concern for the poor fishing worm.  No one seemed to care about his plight.  But the worm had no comment.  After his encounter with the largemouth Bass, he still did not have a head.