A Day in the Park

I’m sitting on a bench in the park, watching the pigeons, when this guy in a yellow jersey rides up on a bike. He stops with the sun behind him. I can’t see his face, but he sure has big ears.

“Well,” he says, “There you are, finally.”

I give him a look – you know, like you give strange guys in funny shirts who accost you in the park. “So who are you, and whaddaya want,” I inquire, in a less than welcoming tone.

“What I want is to talk to you,” he said. “As far as who I am – with George Burns’ head and Lance Armstrong’s body, who do you think I might be?” He moved a bit and, sure enough…it was a strange sight, let me tell you.

“I’m feeling gullible today,” I said, “so with the mask and all, I figure you must be…” Continue reading