A few weeks ago, I was having an interesting conversation on the way home from the beach with a few friends...armadillos. Before this Kentucky girl moved down to Alabama, I was only accustomed to the opossum laying on the side of the road, dead from someone plowing over them with their big, tricked-out, redneck truck. Well, Alabama has those too, but they also have ARMADILLOS...and big tricked out trucks. (I moved from redneck to a greater redneck region.)
I have a weird love-hate, fascination with armadillos. Because I am still getting use to them lying dead on the side of the road, they always seem to catch my eye. These disgusting vermin truly gross me out to no end. I'm not sure if it's because they are lying dead on the side of the road, or that it's their scaly, banded body. Either way, they make me dry heave.
I was driving home up Interstate 65 to visit my family this weekend in Kentucky, and to pass time, Winston and I counted dead armadillos on the side of the road. (Forget the license plate game!) It was then that I discovered my first analyzation of an armadillo. They are pure drama queens. Yes, a drama queen. (See example at in at the top of this blog.)
I mean really, why is it that all of them lie on their backs, feet up in the air and head slumped over to the side like a child pretending in a game of "Dead Man, Dead Man?" Perhaps it's something they learn in school...theatre class. Give em' a fainting couch and they'd be set. Nonetheless, they're completely going overboard!
So next time you're in the deep South, watch out for those armadillo corpses. They're bound to have you slightly fascinated or dry heaving in your family puke pail.
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Act 3, Scene 3: The Finale
Oh, by the light of day thine life is sweet,
Traveling fore and yon on my four clawed feet.
Alas! T’was my nose that caused my toil,
The scent of termites was my foil.
Death! Death! Come soon!
My heart won’t maketh till night’s moon.
I am yet a harmeless armadillo,
Waiting to float on heaven’s pillow.
(Spotlight, center stage) Ack! Ack! Cough!
(Twist, turn, grab throat) Gurgle, gurgle.
(Dead on ground, spread eagle, tongue hanging out of mouth)
(Note...there is not an "old English" spell checker! Sorry if my spelling is off).
Thanks for the inspiration Alice! It's been a while since I've written one of my 10 minute poems.
You know, our neighborhood is the only place I've ever seen a LIVE armadillo. So you never know what you might see. . .
Not to give you nightmares or anything :)
Or better yet, I can see you now, laying in bed in the pitch dark, eyes wide open, scanning your bedroom for huge scaly mario-brothers-like creatures that might have crawled through the cracks in the baseboards. . .
But wait! They wouldn't even HAVE to crawl through the cracks! Your front door is open 80% of the time!
Yes, your next blog will be about your houseguest, Mrs. Drama Queen Armadillo.
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