Editor:
Enjoyed the piece about the resurgence of the bald eagle in the lower 48. If I'm not mistaken, a pair nests in Bulloch near catfish ponds off Rocky Ford Road where it crosses U.S. 25.
The birds are indeed majestic and deserve protection for reasons other than the fact that they are our national bird.
Most know that Benjamin Frankin objected to the bald eagle being made our national bird, citing its crass appetite and craven ways — bald eagles eat carrion and are piratical, often robbing the osprey of hard-won fish. As a matter of fact, the last bald eagle I saw in the wild was a full-grown male trying to snatch a dead possum from a road near Dover.
Franklin wanted to make the wild turkey our national bird, praising its sleek, stream-lined body, its shimmering bronze color, its clean habits and affinity for wilderness.
If Franklin could have known that the turkey might come to symbolize modern America more than his struggling nation and its pioneering spirit, he might have fought a little harder.
But we are talking about the modern domesticated turkey rather than Franklin's wild bird. The typical domestic turkey starts life gobbling in a most literal way, grows into a gobbler of a more figurative kind and ends up being, itself, gobbled. Methinks that symbolizes modern American consumerism, spot on.
Tis said that out of the mouths of babes and sucklings come, well, you know what. Enter Ransom, my grand-nephew, a gifted and talented 8-year-old whose favorite TV is the Medical Channel.
Not long ago Ransom watched his grandmother cook a turkey breast. When she took it from the oven he examined it carefully and asked "Grandma, does it have implants?" I rest my case.
Joshua A. Lee
Sylvania
Enjoyed the piece about the resurgence of the bald eagle in the lower 48. If I'm not mistaken, a pair nests in Bulloch near catfish ponds off Rocky Ford Road where it crosses U.S. 25.
The birds are indeed majestic and deserve protection for reasons other than the fact that they are our national bird.
Most know that Benjamin Frankin objected to the bald eagle being made our national bird, citing its crass appetite and craven ways — bald eagles eat carrion and are piratical, often robbing the osprey of hard-won fish. As a matter of fact, the last bald eagle I saw in the wild was a full-grown male trying to snatch a dead possum from a road near Dover.
Franklin wanted to make the wild turkey our national bird, praising its sleek, stream-lined body, its shimmering bronze color, its clean habits and affinity for wilderness.
If Franklin could have known that the turkey might come to symbolize modern America more than his struggling nation and its pioneering spirit, he might have fought a little harder.
But we are talking about the modern domesticated turkey rather than Franklin's wild bird. The typical domestic turkey starts life gobbling in a most literal way, grows into a gobbler of a more figurative kind and ends up being, itself, gobbled. Methinks that symbolizes modern American consumerism, spot on.
Tis said that out of the mouths of babes and sucklings come, well, you know what. Enter Ransom, my grand-nephew, a gifted and talented 8-year-old whose favorite TV is the Medical Channel.
Not long ago Ransom watched his grandmother cook a turkey breast. When she took it from the oven he examined it carefully and asked "Grandma, does it have implants?" I rest my case.
Joshua A. Lee
Sylvania