tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-85546952011-04-21T13:24:59.138-07:00Okey Dokey?/0http://www.blogger.com/profile/07483188563825916522noreply@blogger.comBlogger11100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8554695.post-1096663221560559622004-10-01T13:36:00.000-07:002004-10-01T20:16:37.806-07:00<img src="http://www.geocities.com/r_o_jones/chickenhat2.jpg" /> <br /> <br />Last night, I was hard at work in the clown cave, counting balloons and listening to new songs to use in the clown show, when in between tunes I heard a faint clucking sound. <br /> <br />Chick-chick-chick-chick-chicken. <br /> <br />At first, I thought it was my imagination running away with me, or some glitch in the computer. Or my friends messing with my head. <br /> <br />I stood up and walked toward the clucking. <br /> <br />Chick-chick-chick-chick-chicken. Faintly. <br /> <br />It seemed to be coming from the air conditioner, which isn't in a window but just in a hole cut in the wall. One of the clowns has put something in the air conditioner to make chicken sounds. <br /> <br />Now it's getting louder. And there's more than one. <br /> <br />This is getting freaky. There's nothing I can see in the book crates or under the table that's beneath the air conditioner. <br /> <br />It's coming from outside. I run to the bathroom to look out the window. There must be five or six people in the alley right behind my clucking like chickens. <br /> <br />No one I know. Why are these people clucking like chickens outside my house? Are they messing with me? Is it the revenge from the people upstairs, having heard me singing "<a href="http://www.gunnarmadsen.com/lyricsMH.html">Chicken Road</a>" over and over and over again last week as we prepared for the <a href="http://www.chickenfestival.com/entertn.htm#saturday">World Chicken Festival</a> (scroll down the page a little from there), which I didn't perform because we didn't have time as we almost got kicked out. But that's another blog. <br /> <br />So I couldn't tell if this was belligerent clucking or just general, good-natured clucking among friends that had nothing to do with me. <br /> <br />I called Swee'Pea and told her there were a bunch of people clucking like chickens outside my house. She laughed and hung up on me. <br /> <br />I decided that it was just general, good-natured clucking among friends that had nothing to do with me, and I couldn't stand it. Couldn't stand that it had nothing to do with me. <br /> <br />Look, I know I don't own the chicken joke or a trademark on the rubber chicken. I just buy them by the dozen and have worked one -- at least -- into just about every Clown Show. <br /> <br /><img src="http://www.geocities.com/r_o_jones/chickfest1.jpg" /> <br /> <br />But it just didn't seem right that they should be having so much chicken fun without me. <br /> <br />So I scrambled around the house gathering up my chickens. I planned to go out there in my pajamas with a chicken in each hand and complain "You're waking up my chickens." <br /> <br />But just as I started out the door, I heard the door to the upstairs apartment open and the cluckers stopped clucking and marched upstairs. <br /> <br />It was all over. <br /> <br />I considered knocking on the door, inviting myself and my chickens to the party, but I didn't. <br /> <br />I guess I was chicken. <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8554695-109666322156055962?l=theclownshow.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>/0http://www.blogger.com/profile/07483188563825916522noreply@blogger.com12