When I first got into the Chamber of Commerce business I moved to the smallest city I’ve ever lived, Algona, Iowa, population 6000. I moved there in late March just in time to help with planning one of the more enjoyable events sponsored by the Chamber each year—the annual Easter Egg Hunt the day before Easter.
This particular event was conducted by a group within the Chamber called the Salesman’s Bureau. It was composed of sales people who spent most of their time away from home. It met monthly on a Saturday in order to get caught up with what was going on in town, enjoy a bit of camaraderie and plan a couple of events—the other main event this group did was a golf outing in the summer we dubbed the Herb Tarlek Open in honor of the salesman from WKRP Cincinnati.
We spent months working on the Easter Egg Hunt including lining up groups of Scouts to dye the 2000+ eggs we got donated from a couple of area farms, getting donated toys from some of our local stores, making sure the local state park was reserved and otherwise just tying up details.
The date of the event started with a breakfast in the shelter at the park—eggs, sausage, biscuits and Bloody Marys. After breakfast we made sure that the areas for the egg hunting age groups were roped off and that an appropriate amount of eggs were placed in each. Prizes were laid out and extra eggs were put aside for us to make sure that kids who weren’t otherwise able to find an egg “found” one with a bit of help from one of us. What we really wanted to have happen was for the kids to have fun.
Cars started to arrive, rapidly filling available parking and stretching down the gravel road leading into the park. We started to usher the kids to their areas broken down by age group. It just wouldn’t do for a toddler to be run over in a stampede of older kids so age segregation was strictly enforced. We also handed out paper bags to the many kids who arrived without Easter baskets to put their goodies. Now, as the rest of this story unfolds remember those 2 key items—stampede and paper bag.
People would come from literally all over our area—some as far as 20 miles for the Annual Easter Egg Hunt. It was heavily promoted on our local radio station for a couple of weeks ahead of time. It wasn’t unusual to have 500 kids attend along with parents, grandparents, etc.
The hunt was set to begin at the stroke of 10 a.m. The Mayor of our small city would ceremoniously fire a gun (blank cartridge) to get the organized mayhem started.
Everything was in place. Using the P.A. system from a police car, the mayor was introduced and made a few introductory remarks. I was walking to the edge of the crowd after a last check of one of the search areas and handing out paper bags. I was down to my last paper bag.
The mayor held the starter’s pistol overhead. I was wondering what to do with the last bag.
The mayor started a countdown. I held the bag up to my mouth.
The mayor’s countdown reached 5. All the kids were poised in anticipation.
I blew into the bag and proceeded to slam it down into my other hand at the same instant the mayor’s count reached 3.
Looking up I immediately realized what I had done. The mayor’s face was frozen in a grimace at hearing the loud pop just as he said 3. The kids all started to surge forward even though many were unsure because the pop of a paper bag and of a blank from a starter’s pistol don’t quite sound the same. It was literally like on TV when something happens and the action immediately goes into slow motion—and the word Noooooooooooooo reverberates. (Or more aptly when Ralphie is helping his Dad change the tire and the Dad knocks the hubcap with the lug nuts flying and Ralphie says “Oh fuuuuuudddgggeee”).
The kids bolted. The mayor jolted. He never fired off the gun. All the eggs got found. The kids had a great time. The rest of the Salesman’s Bureau laughed until they had to hold their sides. I was totally embarrassed at having done something so idiotic. And the Mayor never forgave me.
Have a wonderful Easter.
Showing posts with label family life. Show all posts
Showing posts with label family life. Show all posts
Friday, April 10, 2009
Thursday, March 26, 2009
The World From Our Balcony 1
We’ve been feeding hummingbirds for about 3 years now. The feeder is hung on our second story balcony convenient to any of the little critters who are always passing through our neighborhood.
The birds pretty much transit through here hanging around for 3 or 4 weeks before moving on. I’m not real sure of the varieties but my Google search suggests that we get a lot of Anna’s and Broadtails. The one thing I am sure of is the difference between males and females. As in much of the animal world, males have brighter plumage and are more distinctive looking than the females and like males the world over try to be the bully boss of everything. The males can get so protective of this little spot of territory that none of the birds gets much time at what we call the “big ugly flower”.
We tend to give the birds descriptive names when identify individuals. We had one scruffy looking one with a growth on its beak we named Durante. Recently there was a really pudgy female we called Big Bertha.
We upgraded the feeder a couple years back to one which has perches so the birds can light and rest while drinking. Sometimes the birds cooperate and let the feeder fill up with 3 or 4 birds and sometimes its as though they’re afraid someone will get more than they will so they chase any other birds away. It can be great fun watching them soar around (I’ve been buzzed many times by hard charging hummingbirds chasing one another). And occasionally they’ll even share and all 4 perches will be active at once. We’ll have anywhere from 3 to 10 birds which come by for a drink at the feeder at any one point in time.
A few months back we had a first which was 5 birds drinking at once (2 sharing one perch). But the best was about a month and a half ago when one evening we counted 10 birds buzzing around the feeder during what we call “the follies” which is at dusk when all the birds want to get their “last call” before heading off to roost. This night there were 10 birds perching or hovering around at one time and we counted 7 on the perches at once. And of course, as so often happens, there’s one more aggressive bird which has to come charging in, pushing and shoving and scatter all the others off the feeder in a burst of whirring, flapping wings.
It’s entertaining and it’s also a reminder of how we interact with one another. There’s plenty of nectar if we take our turn and share. But, you know, there always seems to be one jerk who wants it all for himself and who has to try to prove his self-importance by squawking the loudest and making the biggest fuss. Sound familiar? Yeah, we’ve all seen people like that. We’re not so different from the hummingbirds. We’re just bigger and can’t fly.
But man is it fun to watch these little birds fly around and maneuver. Instant acceleration. Stop and hover on a dime. For the cost of about a half cup of sugar a week, it’s terrific entertainment and a lesson in how to get along (or not get along) with others. Plus, they’ll really let us know by hovering close and squawking if the nectar runs out. I even had one fly into our apartment one day—apparently just to check us out.
That’s a bit of the world from our balcony. The hummingbirds make it a more enjoyable world.
The birds pretty much transit through here hanging around for 3 or 4 weeks before moving on. I’m not real sure of the varieties but my Google search suggests that we get a lot of Anna’s and Broadtails. The one thing I am sure of is the difference between males and females. As in much of the animal world, males have brighter plumage and are more distinctive looking than the females and like males the world over try to be the bully boss of everything. The males can get so protective of this little spot of territory that none of the birds gets much time at what we call the “big ugly flower”.
We tend to give the birds descriptive names when identify individuals. We had one scruffy looking one with a growth on its beak we named Durante. Recently there was a really pudgy female we called Big Bertha.
We upgraded the feeder a couple years back to one which has perches so the birds can light and rest while drinking. Sometimes the birds cooperate and let the feeder fill up with 3 or 4 birds and sometimes its as though they’re afraid someone will get more than they will so they chase any other birds away. It can be great fun watching them soar around (I’ve been buzzed many times by hard charging hummingbirds chasing one another). And occasionally they’ll even share and all 4 perches will be active at once. We’ll have anywhere from 3 to 10 birds which come by for a drink at the feeder at any one point in time.
A few months back we had a first which was 5 birds drinking at once (2 sharing one perch). But the best was about a month and a half ago when one evening we counted 10 birds buzzing around the feeder during what we call “the follies” which is at dusk when all the birds want to get their “last call” before heading off to roost. This night there were 10 birds perching or hovering around at one time and we counted 7 on the perches at once. And of course, as so often happens, there’s one more aggressive bird which has to come charging in, pushing and shoving and scatter all the others off the feeder in a burst of whirring, flapping wings.
It’s entertaining and it’s also a reminder of how we interact with one another. There’s plenty of nectar if we take our turn and share. But, you know, there always seems to be one jerk who wants it all for himself and who has to try to prove his self-importance by squawking the loudest and making the biggest fuss. Sound familiar? Yeah, we’ve all seen people like that. We’re not so different from the hummingbirds. We’re just bigger and can’t fly.
But man is it fun to watch these little birds fly around and maneuver. Instant acceleration. Stop and hover on a dime. For the cost of about a half cup of sugar a week, it’s terrific entertainment and a lesson in how to get along (or not get along) with others. Plus, they’ll really let us know by hovering close and squawking if the nectar runs out. I even had one fly into our apartment one day—apparently just to check us out.
That’s a bit of the world from our balcony. The hummingbirds make it a more enjoyable world.
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