Kevin was probably awesome.
Kevin probably had a wife and a family, judging from the look of him, I’d say he was an adult. He probably had brothers and sisters and aunts and uncles and parents.
He probably went on trips in the spring and the fall, and he probably had lots of friends in a bunch of places around the world.
He was really kind of plain looking, kind of drab, even. No one would ever call him beautiful, and that’s just sad.
Another thing they wouldn’t have called Kevin was a good flyer.
You see, Kevin was a sparrow.
Yesterday, as I was preparing to leave the school, a couple of kids came up to me and said, “Hey Travis, you’ve got a bird on the tailgate of your truck.” I went out and looked, and there was nothing there. I didn’t think anything of it, because heck, it was a bird. Birds fly away. If I was a bird, I wouldn’t be caught dead on my truck.
Which as it turns out, wasn’t far from what happened. Not far at all.
So this morning, I go out to go to work, and I look at the grill of my truck. I find Kevin, stuck there, in all his dead bird glory.
Of course, I’ve taken the liberty:
You see, poor Kevin had the misfortune to be one in a group of sparrows that got in my way as I was running late to work yesterday. Really, they weren’t even in my way, they were off to the side of the road, but I guess my truck roaring by on the highway gave them a spook. They all took wing, with the exception of Kevin, who took a header straight into my chrome bumper.
“The early bird gets the worm, AND gets safely out of the way of a 95 Chevy truck speeding down the road.” -Travis Sloat
Kevin stuck with me through three trips yesterday, so I can only assume that his little body froze to my grill.
That’s nasty.
So today, I did what any normal person who didn’t want a taxidermied sparrow hood ornament would do.
I knocked him off the grill with a pitching wedge.
Why a pitching wedge you ask?
Well, two reasons.
1.) I don’t want to get the bird flu. Because for sure, iffen I get the bird flu, the swine flu will follow soon after, then the regular flu, and…well, let’s be honest. Maybe I should have gotten the bird flu. I could stand to lose some weight.
and
C.) I find that a pitching wedge gives you excellent control without giving up too much power around the greens. It produces a soft shot with some backspin, which came in handy when I chipped Kevin from my driveway to the nearest tree.
That’s closest to the pin, folks.
I win.
I’ve written something for Kevin, I’d like you to all read it to the tune of “Arms of an Angel” by Sara McLaughlin or however you spell it. Maybe you even want to play it in the background.
In the grill of a truck,you sped away from here.From this cold, sunny day, and the bigger birds that you feared.You were chipped from the grill, with a pitching wedge from me.You’re in the grass by the driveway, laying by a tree.
Rest in peace, Kevin.
Once again, thanks to Lee, or maybe thanks to my genius filmmaking, I’ve gotten some new followers. Folks, I just want to say that I do not normally condone birdicide, but this was just hilarious. If you don’t like this sort of low brow, “laughing about dead birds named Kevin” humor….well……
Go away.
That’s real.
Those that stay,
I love y’all. Let’s have some fun.