Before I even get started with this, those of you who came here thinking you’re about to read a salacious article should be ashamed of yourselves. Not that y’all can’t be my friends, you can, but still you should be ashamed of yourselves.
That being said, I’m writing this today to introduce y’all to my new morning friend, Mr. Pecker. Actually, his full name is Mr. Wood Pecker, and he has just recently started impacting my life. I first noticed him several weeks ago one morning when I heard this dull metallic thumping coming from the side of my house. Upon further examination, I found the source of said racket to be a woodpecker. He was hammering the hell out of one of my aluminum gutters, the one closest to my bedroom. Of course, and at 7 am to boot. To remedy this situation I simply picked up a small rock, sailed it close enough by him to get his attention, and that took care of it. Or so I thought.
A couple of days later, I noticed this exact same woodpecker (don’t ask me how I know it’s the same one, I just do) again around seven am. He had obviously not given up on the prospect of piercing my gutter, and again he hammered away in pursuit of that hope. This time, after a quick laugh at his hopeless endeavor, I took a BB gun and blasted off a quick shot close enough by his hyper-pecking head to get his attention. It did, and he quickly flew off back into the woods behind my house, hopefully to never been seen again.
This, I’m sorry to say, has not been the case. Since these events occurred, my new woodpecker friend has been visiting me, on average, a good two to three times a week. Each time around 7 am in the morning. And now since I figure we’re morning buddies of sorts, we’ve gone beyond the normal human-woodpecker relationship to that of being kinda pseudo-friends. I mean, let’s face it, I am waking up with him rather early and rather often. And, any new friend needs to have a name, and all I have to go by in this situation is the term “woodpecker,” so my new friend’s name must be “Wood Pecker.” Or “Mr. Wood Pecker.” And since this is a new friendship, his title still needs to be a bit formal, so my new friend’s name for hereafter more is going to be “Mr. Pecker.” A nice, formal name indicating the blossoming new relationship between a man and his natural flying buddy.
So there you have it – Mr. Pecker is now on a steady visitation schedule, I don’t even throw or shoot things at him anymore as I figure he has his gig to run and I have mine. The morale of this story actually involves stereotyping – years ago, friends of mine would refer to someone as a “pecker head,” and it was not a compliment. Now, I proudly can call “Mr. Pecker” a true friend and compadre. He blesses me often as he makes sure I don’t oversleep, he occasionally causes me to laugh out loud, and he’s even has caused me to inspect my gutters, something I haven’t done for a really long time. And if you really think about it, these are all things that a good friend would do for you. So Mr. Pecker, I’m pleased to report, is now a good friend of mine.
My title makes a lot more sense now, doesn’t it?