I've just been informed that I am the subject of an FBI dossier. That's a French word that means a file full of papers containing made-up stories about things somebody else imagines I might have done sometime when I wasn't some place I've never been, that someone I've never met swore they saw me doing before I was even born. Now, I'm no worry-wort. I don't panic easily. Generally, I oppose alarmism. But, using an expression widely expressed by so many highly-erudite, culturally-elite, well-tempered, conventionally-wise talking heads these days—I have become "deeply concerned." If I should reach the level of being "gravely concerned," you may find yourself reading the musings of a fill-in blogger in my place. For now, I'm still here. And responding to my internal defense mechanism, I whipped out my poetic license and voiced my concerns in the form of a poem. Note: For those of you who are hard of reading, and anyone else who cares to listen, please try to find the Download File link below, so you can click it and experience a dramatic oral interpretation of my latest literary effort. ![]()
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None of the gulls I know can read, so this blog is meaningless to them. A lot of people who can read don't understand what's been written, here or anywhere. Those who can hear don't necessarily bother to listen. ![]()
Some who read this blog get what it's about. Some don't. What it's about is the way I see the world. It's about holding a mirror to the world. There are imperfections in the glass. Still, there's beauty in the reflection. There's ugliness, too. And irony. And absurdity. And consistencies, sometimes. And unpredictability. It's a balancing act.
This week's question comes from G.W. of Hood River, Oregon: "Geo, would you please tell us what you think of smart meters?" Not much, G.W., not much. In fact, I don't trust anything that has smart in its name. Smart car, smart home, smart phone, smart watch, smart tv, smart money, smart breakfast cereal, Maxwell Smart... Smarties... To me, if you have to say you're smart, you're probably not. Now, about smart meters in particular: Some people think they're the greatest. Namely, public utility companies and government regulators. Some folks are passionately opposed to them. They fear unhealthy microwave radiation. Or they oppose the intrusive mining of personal power usage data. Or they object to coercive confiscatory fees levied against those who choose not to participate in Smart Meter programs. If you ask me—and G.W. did just that—Smart Meters are just another example of busybody technology. But I'll let you decide for yourself. So, here's a list of hot links covering the pros and cons and cons and cons and more cons of Smart Meters:
That should keep you busy for a while. As for me—I don't need a Smart Meter. I get all the energy I need for free—from the wind, from ocean waves, in dumpsters and landfills, out of the mouths of pelicans or the nets of fishermen, and from the charity of people who toss food from their cars or from their beach chairs. It's all renewable, and the Public Utilities Commission hasn't figured out how to control it. Yet. I feel like I'm getting into a rut here. With the help and encouragement of my merchandise associates. According to The Free Dictionary, a rut is a noun that usually means:
Given this context, here's our latest bumper sticker offering: At least I should be able to claw my way out of this rut tomorrow, when it's Fun Fact Friday. Unless I get a question about bumper stickers. Contribute your Fun Fact Friday question by clicking the Comments link at the top of this page. My marketing staff is really cranking out the bumper stickers. I love their energy. But I'm not sure how to take this one. At least they used the Seagull font.
But I remained curious as to what all the excitement was about. It turned out to be a peculiarly human celebration called a wedding, celebrating the union of two particular humans. In this case the wedding had its own name—the "Brash Wedding," which I learned was a contraction made by combining the names of the particular humans who were just married—Brian and Ashley. Having established these ancillary facts, I concluded my investigation and resumed eating. I would have wished these Brian and Ashley persons all the best, but I was taught never to squawk with my mouthful. One of these things is not like the others... Of course you chose the correct answer—B for Bird Control. Since I live in a special part of the world where seagulls are admired, cherished, honored, and photographed in soft focus, I sometimes forget the harsh treatment and officially sanctioned cruelty and persecution that is everyday reality for seagulls in many disparate corners of the world. But my readers occasionally snap me out of my reverie by sending me links to hate-filled individuals and institutions that remind me there is still much work to be done to rid the planet of rampant anti-seagullism.
For this week's special prime number edition of Fun Fact Friday, I will answer not one, but two reader questions. P.L. of Westbrook, Maine has contributed the first question: "Geo, please tell us why you never give credit to the musicians on your recorded song/poems." Well, P.L., the main reason is I don't want to embarrass them. But, thanks to your question, I have received permission to tell you who provides the amazing backup music on my recordings. Collectively, they are known as the Four Rs: Most prominently featured is the backbone of the band—guitarist Rusty Skillet. Laying down the beats is our percussionist extraordinaire--Rock Harder. Blowing a mean harmonica and sometimes caught whistling—Rudy Tooter. And pulling it all together with special effects and audio processing trickery—Rip Trousers. Now for the second question, here's what J.L. of Fargo, North Dakota asks: "Please explain, Geo, why are your poems and songs so short?" That's easy. I have the attention span of a seagull. That's why. If you have a question for Geo, that's what Fun Fact Fridays are all about. Submit your question by clicking the Comments link above. And remember to say, "Please." I think I've made a grievous mistake. Yesterday, I posted my newest song/poem here. It was inspired by current events, but not based on real events. In other words, it was pure fiction. Not to be taken literally. And in my mind, it was totally acceptable under the terms of my poetic license. But now my legal team tells me I should have cleared it with them first, due to the sensitive nature of the subject matter. Why must everyone be so touchy? I'm not sure what the ramifications will be, now that yesterday's post has been published and is probably out there in cyberspace forever. Even though it's probably too late to cover my tracks, I am going to pretend that yesterday never happened. Maybe I can just casually delete yesterday's post. Today I will at least do what my legal advisers say I should have done in the first place. In the interest of national security, I am replacing the unabridged lyric sheet and the unedited recording of my song/poem with heavily-redacted versions, both in print and in audio. I hope the next message in a bottle that washes up on my beach isn't a grand jury subpœna. ![]()
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I've never been to Russia. Although I hear it can be extremely cold, a lot of gulls still seem to like it there. Siberian gulls even breed on the tundra. I would be afraid of either freezing to death or starving to death. Do they even have landfills out there on the tundra? I've been hearing a lot about Russia recently. Fake news stories, podcasts about fake news stories, books about fake news stories, etc. But I haven't heard any songs or read any poems on the subject. Since I'm always trying to be first, I was motivated to write what could be the first song of its kind about a meeting with a Russian. Because I am forbidden to sing--with good reason, I must admit—I am only allowed to perform my song as a poem set to music. Have you ever encountered a word that you just can't get out of your mind? So you just have to do something with that word to get it out of your system? That happened to me when I heard the word oligarch. Apparently there are only oligarchs in Russia, because you never hear of any oligarchs anywhere else in the world. And I have heard the word oligarch one time too many. As a result, my head became so full of thoughts about oligarchs one night that I couldn't sleep until I pulled this song out of my brain. It's a short story that revolves around intrigue and food. It's what they used to call a "topical" song. I think that means you can apply it on a rash. I'm giving you the lyrics in case you can't understand my accent. ![]()
For the 30th edition of Fun Fact Friday, here's a question from M.S., of San Diego, CA. "Geo, I have noticed you have a red spot on the lower part of your otherwise yellow beak. Is it lipstick? Please explain."
When it comes to red spots on the lower mandibles of adult gulls, studies have shown that size matters. Seagull babies seem to be attracted to the bigger red dots. And no other colored dots will do. I'll have you know that is not lipstick on my beak. It's FD&C Red No. 40. I overheard a couple of guys on the beach today who were playing around with remote controlled model airplanes. Of course I have excellent hearing, but it didn't hurt that these guys were shouting at each other to be heard over the sound of the pounding surf. And I distinctly heard one of them talking about seagull arfs.
And my webbed editor says I over-hyphenate. So proud am I of my ornithological heritage, I have been inspired to compose a poem, which I've transformed into a talking blues, because I have been ordered never to get caught singing again. I think it's a bit catchy nonetheless. That's why I'm including the lyrics. In case you catch yourself wanting to sing along. Of course, as a human you may feel a little silly singing "I'm a seagull." And the more sensitive among you may gasp and suddenly stop singing, because you're afraid you might be committing cultural appropriation. Fear not. I'm a seagull. We practice cultural appropriation and any other kind of appropriation every chance we get. So it won't hurt my feelings if you sing along. It won't hurt my ears, either, because I don't have any. ![]()
...which is a prime number, and that makes it one of my favorites. Here's another number for you—250. That's how many daily balancing act posts I have made through yesterday. Which makes today's post number 251—also a prime. Now for this week's Fun Fact Friday question, submitted by B.M. of Medford, Oregon: "I mean no offense, Geo, but all seagulls look the same to me. I see two kinds. They are either brownish gray or they are white and gray like you. Please tell us, do all humans look alike to you?" First of all, the darker colored gulls are our young ones. Those of us who survive to at least three or four years of age earn the more handsome outfit that I am wearing. As for what I see when I look at humans, let me first refer you to Fun Fact Friday #10, where I discuss my exceptional eyesight. That is one of the qualities that landed me the Park Host position at South Jetty Beach. I don't miss much. When it comes to humans, I'm not so good with names, but I remember faces and attitudes. I'm good at telling friend from foe. Mostly I keep my distance as far as humans are concerned. And if they don't keep their distance from me, I take a snapshot in my photographic memory as I dance away and take flight. So I will know them if I ever see them again. And please read this article from Bay Nature magazine for a more detailed answer to today's question, from a human's perspective. I know I've been heaping praise on my merchandising crew. Until now. But somebody's going to have to explain this new bumper sticker to me. For one thing, I can't figure out if that gull is coming or going or rising or falling. It appears to be in the middle of doing a mid-air flip. I can't quite connect the words to the picture, either. It's not just me, is it? I'd say it's a dud. Maybe if it said "seagulls are so scintillating" or "special" or "spectacular" or even "snarky." But...sustainable? My merchandising mavens have done it again! This time, they've created a beautiful full-color wall poster to add to the growing selection of Golden Geo goodies. And speaking of mavens, did you know an American spacecraft named MAVEN that was launched in 2013 has been circling Mars since 2014, studying the Martian atmosphere? As you can see from these pictures, MAVEN does have some gull-wing characteristics. In recent posts, I have shared my very personal story of learning the English language by way of product labels on food packages that attracted my hungry attention in garbage cans, landfills, etc. Among my favorite sentences that I learned early through my studies of product packaging language—a sentence I have found difficult to use in this blog or other forms of communication—is this one: "Contents may have settled during shipping." I remain hopeful that one day I will learn just what is meant by that sentence, and then maybe I will find an appropriate time to put it to use. Some especially instructive labels do not necessarily appear on food or beverage containers, however. That is something I learned the hard way when I naïvely took a swig of Dr. Bronner's 18-in-1 Peppermint Soap®. That stuff is not only NOT food, but it actually caused a burning bubble bath to form inside of me.
Don't be surprised if some of the timeless wisdom expressed on the Dr. Bronner's Soap® bottle appears on future Golden Geo gear. Or in my poetry. Or in future blog posts exploring seagull spirituality. Like this: "Small minds decay! Average minds delay! Great minds teach All-One today!" I love the strategic use of exclamation points! I'm All-In! And I invite you to read and learn! Here's a sequel to yesterday's post about how I have developed exceptional English language skills by studying food packaging I find in trash cans and dumpsters.
As an appropriate postscript to today's post, my design staff came up with an appropriate bumper sticker to add to our online inventory. This week's question comes from T.J. of Shadwell, Virginia, who asks: "Please tell us, Geo, since English is not your native language, how did you learn to write so beautifully?" T.J., you flatter me. And I deserve it. Ever since I first poked around in the nearest trash can, I have found tasty morsels of food in boxes or bags or bottles or cans that have markings known as words on them. At an early age, I became fascinated with the meaning of those words. Humans underestimate the mental prowess we seagulls possess. We can learn and we can retain and apply what we learn. Over time, I have developed a massive English vocabulary, and not only can I spell every word correctly, I can use every word correctly. And I can recognize misspelled words and incorrectly used words and phrases. I daresay I am at least as good with my English as most of you are with yours. And I haven't given up on getting my writings printed by a reputable publishing company. Here's an example of the educational material I encounter in the garbage every day: If it has to do with food, I learn even faster. And, incidentally, I always do say thank you for the food, just as I always ask for more. Maybe it's time for you to ask Geo a question he can respond to in next week's Fun Fact Friday episode. Just click the Comments link above. Be sure to say "please." I've been scammed! Vannity Press, Inc. is a rip-off. They made me think I had something unique to offer, and they put a beautiful flattering cover on my book. But it turned out to be a copy of somebody else's book cover. Now nobody wants to sell my book because they fear a lawsuit. I would be so humiliated if I were capable of that sentiment. Instead, I am incredibly peeved. And I'm beginning to think this is another instance of seagull hate. Yes, I'm pretty confident that I have been set up, taken advantage of, and made to look bad because of what I am. I'm going to talk to my lawyer. Anyway, see for yourself... I have been getting the weirdest phone calls lately. A lot of them are coming from Searchlight, Nevada. I don't bother to answer them. Doesn't retired Senator Harry Reid have anything better to do? Maybe you don't get the reference. But you can always use your own search engine and find out about this guy. What a fraud! There was another call the other day that I ignored as well, but this time the caller left voicemail. Being curious, I listened to the message, which said the people at Vannity Press, Inc. knew I had a great personal story to tell, and they were eager to publish it for me. One of my avid readers must have told them about me. Anyway, they left a phone number for me to contact them (1-833-VANNITY), which I did. As a result, I'm about to hit the bookstores and newsstands and Costco and Amazon with my very first book, The Art of the Gull. When we get my online store up and running, you'll be able to buy it there, too. Here's a look at the cover. |
Meet the AuthorHi. I'm Geo the Seagull.
I'm the distinguished Park Host on South Jetty Beach at Bandon, Oregon, USA. I'm a firm believer in First Principles: Life, Liberty, and the Pursuit of Your Lunch. Archives
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