Once upon a time, there was an old man who was confused by walnuts. Daily he would pace in front of his picture window holding one pinched between his gnarled thumb and pinky finger and scowl at the nut.
"What the hell?" he would grunt. Sometimes he would also say "These things is hardly natural!" Often he could even be heard to remark, if you were secreted away in his house somewhere within hearing range, "I just don't get it. Why do the llamas love you so?"
Of course the old man could be forgiven for not realizing that llamas didn't really much care for walnuts. The llamas, in their infinite wisdom, prefer linoleum.
One day while the man was pacing and interrogating his daily walnut, he noticed a duck outside on his lawn. He put the walnut down on the sill and approached the duck.
"What's all this?" he inquired sweetly, waving a fist.
"Wonk," stated the duck in the brilliant simplicity his species is known for.
"Seriously. I demand to know the meaning of this. It's February and this is Canada. Shouldn't you be in Barbados or someplace?"
"Wonk," replied the duck, cocking an eyebrow.
"Foolishness!" squeaked the old man, taken aback. He glared stolidly at the impertinent fowl. By golly, he wasn't going to be outmaneuvered by a duck in his own yard! He pointed at the picture window in the front of his house, the walnut clearly visible on the sill.
"That right there's some kinda nut thing, duck. I demand you tell me all you know of it, or I'll boot-kick you right outta my yard."
The duck thought deeply.
The duck scratched at the grass with a webbed foot.
The duck frowned thoughtfully.
Then the duck looked back up at the old man, his face alight with the wisdom of the ages.
"Wonk!" he said.
"Sweet peanut-butter filled Pope cookies!" yelped the old man, as all became clear to him. He patted the duck on the head and scooted back into his house. He picked the walnut up, and using his fist against the solid kitchen table, broke the nut open. He took the pieces out to the duck and gave them to him.
"Wonk," said the appreciative duck, and ate the walnut pieces.
"Now I shall call my family and explain to them this revelatory experience! Perhaps I shall even go on talk shows. You may be in my grass all you want, ducky my lad. If you need me, I'll be inside, being enlightened."
The old man went inside his house and became famous the very next day.
8 comments:
What? No comments? Ya'll is harsh.
Sorry Foodaddy I have been busy with you and work.
the fact that the duck is so smart is good to see. This proves that ducks are not as stupid as some people say.
my favorite line was "Sweet peanut-butter filled Pope cookies!"
Does this duck play duck hockey? I hope so. Hopin' upon a STAR!
This post is misleading in its construction. At first glance, it appears merely to lead the reader in pursuit of an untamed water fowl. (See how neatly I tied that in?) Upon further examination, however, one can begin to discern many layers of subtle wisdom therein.
The post is about an old man. But not just any old man, no no! This old man is confused by walnuts. What does this tell us about life? Much, I feel. It is obvious that the author of this piece is using the walnut as a metaphor for life. And the old man's inability to crack the walnut is an allegory, showing how people can become baffled by years, losing their focus and not knowing their place in this new, strange world. But along comes the duck and, through wonks, shows the old man the true meaning of life (how to crack the nut). This shows us that the simplest things sometimes hold the answers to life's most pressing and disturbing questions. Brilliant, my dear FooD. You are destined to one day sit upon yon hilltop, counseling the masses as they struggle to attain the peak so they may seek your counsel.
I, for one, am thankful for this post. Like FooDaddy, I intend on being an old man one day and, having read this quickie, I shan't have to worry about being confused by walnuts in my twilight years. All that remains is for Foo to write a post about remembering to turn off the turn signal and I'll be well-prepared.
Oh, and I would buy a box of Pope cookies. Are they mint-flavored? Do they have little impressions of the Pope on the top? Can the cookies do impressions of the Pope? I hope so.
Very astute analysis, TSB. When first published this,I thought of it as a barely cohesive jumble of events and minimalist dialogue.
I now see it as so much more.
Truly, as the old man in the post has become enlightened, so too are we readers. One man's journey to feed a duck has, by chance, inspired us all to examine the metaphoric nuts in our lives. Metaphoric.
Oh, and Pope Cookies are available in the Vatican II section of your neighborhood grocery store.
Oh, for poop's sake... "When I first published this..."
I don't know why I even try.
you try because you are good.
I want to go get Pope cookies. will you go with me?
Confused By Walnuts would be a good name for a scruffy little indie rock band smoking Marshmallow Scruff, looking not confused at all, tshah.
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