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Lunchtime For the Ravens, Or, Scatter Boys Or we're all Gonna Die!


J0nny Ling0
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So. There I was in the Safeway parking lot after dropping my son Moku off for work. I had a leftover turkey drumstick wrapped in tin foil, and I thought it would be fun to feed the ravens. I love the ravens around here. They are the ultimate trash can raiders, and make bigger and more common messes than the bears do on garbage day, due to their numbers and "unqualified comittment" to getting to the garbage in the can that sits at curbside waiting for the garbage truck. I have seen streets where people had not put the bungee cords on the lids of their cans, and it looks as if vandals had come through, gleefully spreading garbage like teenagers smashing pumpkins. And, at McDonalds, they hang about the parking lot and in the trees or on the rooves of cars (crapping on them as well), waiting for someone like me who likes to throw french fries to them. And, they are BIG! Ravens are huge! They almost seem like turkeys sometimes. And the older ones are funny looking because they seem to have a "double hump" of feathers on the top of their heads that makes it look like they have two horns up there. And they are really cocky when they walk along, tilting their heads to one side as they look at you.

And so, there I was, in the section of the parking lot where not many cars were parked, driving in a circle waving this half eaten drumstick up in the air like a torch bearer, taunting the ravens with such a delectable treat-the dirty cannibals. And man, they were all over it! They started circling, and from out of nowhere, there must have been thirty of 'em coming from the trees across the way, and they knew that I had a treat for them no doubt. How they figure it out so fast, I'll never know, unless God tells me. Probably have to wait for the Gathering to learn that one though. And so, I stopped driving in a circle and just held my arm with drumstick in hand straight up in the air as even more of them gathered. Some had landed on the ground but ten feet from my truck, hoping that I would throw the banquet to them, and not the others. And so, because I was impressed by the boldness of those who were so close, I tossed that drumstick over to them. And as I did so, a large number of them descended toward that drumstick laying on the asphalt of the parking lot. But, just then, they scattered like a ball of mercury being hit with a ball peen hammer! They all flew off in different directions croakin loudly, and the ones on the ground took instant flight along with those that were already airborn. And I am thinking; "What the Ph o ck? Where the hell are they going? Don't they know a genuine treat when it's given to them"?

And then, just as all of the sudden, a huge white and golden brown blur flashes past my windshield as a huge bald eagle with a six foot wing span swoops down and grabs that drumstick! Yeah man! And I could hear his talons scrape the asphalt as he made his grab and then swooped back up in the sky! And I'm like; "Yeah baybee yeah!" And the ravens are like; "Fly for your lives! Fly for your lives! Let the Big Guy have it!"! And the eagle is like "Yeah, no sh i t you weasily little black sumbitches, I rule the skies around here" as he flies off in a dynamic arial display with my drumstick clutched tightly in his cruel yellow talons. And I'm still like "Whoa! That was so way cool! Thanks God for that one! Yeah!" And the guy in the truck parked fifteen feet from me was like, laughing his butt off and giving me the thumbs up! Yeah, I was literally yelling all of that at the top of my lungs. Too cool...

Ya know, we see eagles every dang day here. They are more plentiful than robins in Tennessee it seems. But that incident just plain "took the cake" for me. Because sometimes, there'll be an eagle on the roof of a building, and the daggone ravens will just divebomb the crap out of them! And me and guys I am working with are like; "Come on eagle! Kick their asses! They're no match for you!" But the eagle will just take it patiently, and I have always wondered why. But today, I saw that when an eagle is serious about what he wants, those damn black bastards will scatter like you wouldn't believe, when the King of the Sky is coming at 'em with a will! Yeah, it was way cool... :)

Edited by Jonny Lingo
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Yeah Garth, no kiddin. And ya know, long ago when I first came up here, back in '82, a friend of mine and I were on the beach of a small island cleaning some halibut that we caught that morning. And while we were gutting the fish, an eagle shows up at the top of a tall Sitka Spruce. And this eagle watched us the entire time. And so, when we were done, I decided to try and be the "Eagle Boy" and hold a halibut head up in the air for him/her to come and grab it. And ya know, that eagle flew off his/her perch and began to circle over my head for a few minutes. An he got tighter and tighter with his circles over my head, but seemed reluctant to swoop and grab it from my hand. And so, when he circled close enough, I heaved that fish head skyward and he swooped for it and hit it with his talons, but, he missed it! And my aspirations of being "Eagle Boy" for my life were dashed upon the rocks on which that halibut head fell! But, my friend Blue, a true friend, still called me "Eagle Boy" for a while after that, because I almost fed a willing wild eagle by hand.... :rolleyes:

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You're quite the story teller.

And ya know Chatty Kathy, I am tellin ya true. These stories are not fiction. They are true. I don't "lie on line" just to puff myself up. My life is what it is. I like the gusto, and I like living on the Edge. I love King Crab, Moose steaks, Caribou, and flying off into the Arctic Bush. And, I like The Bush. That's why I live in Alaska, the Last Frontier. I am no Jim Bridger, and I am no Hugh Glass, for, they were Americans Extroardinaire. But, I have always longed to live in the Wild Places, and here I am, in 2007. At least what is left of the Wild Places anyway...

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I don't doubt a word of it either.

My outdoor adventures were done mainly on the beach where I set lobster traps off a surf board (even though I don't like lobster :unsure: ) and once saw someone taken down by a shark while doing so as the rest of us screamed and flat paddled our way back to shore. I was swimming in a pond once near the house in an area we called lovers lane and jumping off into the water by way of a truck tire on a rope on a tree branch having a blast only to learn that right below my feet was a young couple with cement blocks tied to their feet that had been killed the night before. In the Keys I got in some near misses and I can't tell you the pain of a jellyfish sting. A few other things but mostly having to do with water.

Camping to me is in an RV. :)

I hope you save all your stories for your kids because it would be a wonderful adventure for them and I hope I get to read many more myself.

Thanks Eagle Boy.

Edited by ChattyKathy
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He died. :(

The first person to make it to shore had already screamed loud enough that the medical team had been called but it was too late.

We surfed in an area where there were no lifeguards but even if there had been nothing could have been done. The young man was pulled down and as he came up only once he screamed shark and disappeared for good. At that we were already moving as fast as we could towards the shoreline.

We didn't set traps after that anymore.

Have to get back to work now.

:wave:

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:eusa_clap: :eusa_clap:

Pipes is smiling. That was GREAT Johnny. I felt like you were sitting here talking to me. "Unqualified commitment" - Ha!!!

Your kids and grandkids will love ya!

So....when ya' gonna put 'em in a book? Ya' must ya' know....for your kiddos. :) I'm sure you'll think of a clever title.

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Yeah, I always like to reminisce about my dad and the stories he used to tell us about his young life during the Depression and things that he did during WW II in the Aleutian Islands in Alaksa. But, all I have is the oral recititation to remember, and those things slip into the fog it seems. And so, I write them down so that they can be special down that Road which I will no longer be on someday.

And many of the stories I have writtten incluude my kids when they were little, and that'll be spoecial to them and their kids too. It's kinda weird thinkinbg like that, because I don't pay much heed to the fact that one day I will have croaked. But, well, putting it down on paper is a good thing, I guess...

I think I would like the epitaph on my grave stone to read;

"Hang in there kids! 'Cause Jesus Christ is comin back!"

And thank you each of you. I do like to write, and it's nice to know that what I write communicates... :)

Edited by Jonny Lingo
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The Byrds!! Did someone mention The Byrds?!?!?!?!?! Loved "8 Miles High"!! :eusa_clap: Oohhhh...you said birds.....the flying kind...........uuhhhh.......................never mind! :biglaugh:

Loved the story, Jonny. Thanks. :eusa_clap: :eusa_clap: :eusa_clap:

It sounds like that movie by Alfred Hitchcock.....

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When I was around 20 I dated a guy from the Aleutian Islands (Indian)..His mom gave me a native poem..I remember it was beautiful.Anyway, he has 3 Alaskan Malmuet pups that he trainned from about 5 months old to pull sleds..He started by making small sleds and added weights every other week..Our enjoyment was taking them to the park to walk them all hitched up..He had a lead pup, and switched them for equal trainning..He was a awesome person..pure as the driven snow..for me to see that at such a young age...but my memory is very vivid of them.THe dogs were awesome..

Your son's name is Moku..that is different.

thanks for another wonderful story.

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Like An Eagle,

Thanks. And so, I am very curious about your Aleut friend. Where were you when you were dating him? Most natives here very rarely stray far from Alaska. Where were you two when you met him?

And, my son "Moku". Well, that's not his real name. It's his "cyber name" that fits with my "Jonny Lingo, Island Boy persona....." And so, since I guess it really doesn't matter, his name is Riley. And as a matter of fact, young Riley hit a triple in today's opening Little League game, and he drove in a go ahead rbi, and then scored shortly thereafter! Way to go "Moku........!"

And, thank you Chas U, for it really was pretty cool!

Edited by Jonny Lingo
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Like An Eagle,

Thanks. And so, I am very curious about your Aleut friend. Where were you when you were dating him? Most natives here very rarely stray far from Alaska. Where were you two when you met him?

And, my son "Moku". Well, that's not his real name. It's his "cyber name" that fits with my "Jonny Lingo, Island Boy persona....." And so, since I guess it really doesn't matter, his name is Riley. And as a matter of fact, young Riley hit a triple in today's opening Little League game, and he drove in a go ahead rbi, and then scored shortly thereafter! Way to go "Moku........!"

And, thank you Chas U, for it really was pretty cool!

Johnny- I lived in the heart of Chicago,closer to the western burbs...as you know, the city is filled with folks from every part of the earth...I never even questioned how they got or chose Chicago..I can tell you tho from my memory, they lived in a small apartment in a Flat. A flat is a chicago term for several apartments in one structure.

I remember he braved the winter with ease, just like the dogs..he wore flannels all the time..

Way to Moku:)

Edited by likeaneagle
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Ya know LAE,

I worked two winters ago with an old and fat indian guy from up here who also used to commercial fish most of his youner life. And even though we were outside framing up walls for a building, he never wore gloves ever. And it was cold, as in between 10 and twenty above farenheit. amazing to me, for it was daggone cold. I mean, when he had a moment, into his coat pockets they would go, but as we worked, he simply had them out,working as I did, but I wore work gloves. I mean, for me, screw that! I'm wearin' gloves!

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Ya know LAE,

I worked two winters ago with an old and fat indian guy from up here who also used to commercial fish most of his youner life. And even though we were outside framing up walls for a building, he never wore gloves ever. And it was cold, as in between 10 and twenty above farenheit. amazing to me, for it was daggone cold. I mean, when he had a moment, into his coat pockets they would go, but as we worked, he simply had them out,working as I did, but I wore work gloves. I mean, for me, screw that! I'm wearin' gloves!

[/quote

He was a keeper too..I let a good one get away:(

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