Saturday, August 2, 2008

Lawn care, fast food and a Rocky Raccoon Obituary

(Read the Rocky Raccoon obit in the section below:)

I had to go out to get gasoline for the lawn mower. I like to do my own lawn rather than hire the sloppy lawn services that seem to operate around here under the village's licensing radar screen. (Maybe the village should require that these lawn maintance companies that slop around the neighborhood cutting grass and destroying other people's property should be licensed. That might be a great way to raise money.)

Anyway, after filling up the two gallon gasoline can for more than $8, I passed through McDonalds. I figured, if I am going to mow the lawn and pollute the environment, I might as well fill up on cholesterol, too. I don't normally eat at McDonalds. Well, I wouldn't call consuming their cholesterol sandwiched between muffins "eating."

Getting the gasoline was easy. I went to the Clark station where the pumps don't talk back to me like they do at Gas City. Simple. Fast. Efficient. Easy to use. But the Clark costs weres till pretty high. Getting the breakfast was not so easy.

Cholesterol is very popular, apparently. The line through at the drive-through was all around the building. When it was my turn at the speaker, it was all rattled and hard to hear, of course.

"Can I yelp you?" the voice asked.

Ignoring the voice, I just muttured my order, "Two number 3s and 1 number 5. With orange juice." Hey, I might as well go "healthy."

"Thats zoo bumers twees and a numer un."

"Yea. Whatever."

Then the speaker blurted out what the employees are ordered to do, push another "special" or a product.

"Wood you lick a cholesterol for one dollah?"

Huh? "I can't understand what you said."

"Wood you lick a cholesterol for one dollah?"

"Did you say would I like a shot of cholesterol directly into my arteries and a health insurance application?" I wanted to ask, but didn't. "I can't understand you."

This went on three more times, which was just as well for me. The breakfast sucked. Cold. Already made and wrapped sandwiches. The muffins were like rocks. Hey. If I'm going to have cholesterol build-up I might as well add kidney stones.


Rocky Raccoon, age unknown but definitely a mature adult based on his size, died suddenly sometime in the evening on Friday, possibly after partying or being chased by homeowners with water canons. Suspected victim of hit-and-run animicide. Sources said Rocky -- a carnivorous North American mammal (Procyon lotor) having grayish-brown fur, black masklike facial markings, and a black-ringed bushy tail often associated with Davy Crockett -- was an incessant wanderer always getting into trouble with the humans. A constant forager and recluse, Rocky made a name for himself when he was pictured on the running on his tiptoes from a homeowner who happened to be a writer and photographer who chased him out of his mulberry tree with a garden hose. He is survived by six racconesses and 32 children and grandchildren, most hidden in trees, chimneys, roof eaves, attics in homes throughout Orland Park. Services held as soon as Orland Park's Animal Control division can pick him up off of Windsor Drive near 152nd Street in the middle of the street. Homeowners are too afraid to lift him as they have no idea what kind of social diseases Rocky may have picked up during his wild life. (Photo not published pending notification of family and relatives.)

Lyrics of song to be sung at his wake:

Born on a moraine slope in an Orland tree
The greenest suburb in the land of the free
Raised in the woods knew ev'ry garbage can
Kilt him a recyclable when he was barely a man

Rocky, Rocky Crockett, king of the wild frontier

Fought single-handed through many home war
Till the human was whipped and his tail was in store
And while he was handlin' this risky chore
OrlandParker made him a legend forever more

Rocky, Rocky Crockett, the raccon who knew no fear

Went off to 151st serving there a spell
Eatin' up vegetables and Orland's laws as well
Flipped a few garbage cans, so I heard tell
And hatched up a racket in the Taco Bell

Rocky, Rocky Crockett, seeing his foraging clear

When he came home his foraging was done
And that's about when the water hosin' begun
So he packed his gear and his black striped tail
And lit out a-grinnin' to follow his sail

Rocky, Rocky Crockett, fell victim to a fast-driving SOB

(Village of Orland Park Animal Control information, FYI.)

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