Turkey vs. motorcycle

Originally published at: https://boingboing.net/2020/10/29/turkey-vs-motorcycle.html


“And don’t come back!”


“Yeah, you better run!”


A friend had a few adopted turkeys in his exotic jungly yard. This one time (at band camp) I was visiting there with my wife, me wearing dark red corduroy slacks. A female turkey came over and sat at my feet. My friend said “oh she likes you.” He repeated this a few times as we stood there talking. It took quite awhile for me to get what he was saying. When we were starting to walk she would cuddle up in front of my ankles so I couldn’t move without shoving her away. I’d say “shooing” but I mean, full weight of a turkey hen. I had been there many times without this happening. So I also didn’t process until I got home that it -had- to be the corduroy pattern being confused for tom feathers.

The missus came up with an unceremonious name for those pants.


Came, satisfied, left.


My turkey tales.

  1. Grandpa had a small suburban poultry farm. Turkeys roamed behind tall fencing. I helped Grandpa wring their necks. It was fun.
  2. Rather later, I lived on a hippie commune with a guard turkey. No outsiders got past heavyweight Tom The Destroyer.
  3. Rather later, I was an on-call EMT for a remote ambulance service. A call came before midnight one winter night. My partner and I rushed to the car barn and rolled… past a turkey occupying the middle of an intersection. It watched us whiz by. Alas, it was gone when we returned. No feast for us that weekend.
  4. Rather later, I drove across Mexico and Central America and saw many turkeys staked-out to graze. Let-em eat but don’t let-em escape, hey?
  5. I never challenged a turkey whilst motorcycling. Whew.
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Thanksgiving is a month away. Turkey knows what’s up.


I have long espoused my extreme dislike of birds and of turkeys in particular. They’re not on the same level of vicious as geese, but you certainly don’t want to casually mess with them.

Just a couple weeks ago I was riding up by Harvard and came across a pack of these demons. This is not the sort of run-in I expect in the city.

I should have mentioned – my “manufactured home” (trailer) sits in a forested mountain hamlet. Around us roam squirrels, deer, pumas, bears… and flocks of wild turkeys. Like the deer, I could lasso turkeys from my front or back porches. I have many turkey(s) vs pedestrian experiences. If there’s enough of them, they usually win.

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Turkey: “Really? You’re gonna kick me?!?”
Biker dude: “Yeah. Bounce, birdy”

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