There comes a time in every man’s life when he feels the need to dress up like a chicken. Sure, reasons are important. But sometimes the call to be a chicken overrides reason. I’m proud to say that my friend answered that call and I’m proud to say I stood by his side.
It was certainly an odd idea wanting to follow Shannon O’Brien around in a chicken suit. Shannon is running for governor against a worthy adversary. Mitt Romney is a very imposing figure. She should definitely be scared of losing. And trying to get Mitt Romney kicked off the ballot due to a little technically of location and residency is understandable in her situation. But such a tactic reveals something about Shannon’s inner person, that she doesn’t have an inner person. Instead, she has an inner chicken.
Rather than letting the voters decide the best person for the job, Shannon O’Brien is trying to wimp her way around the big fight for the governorship. This is the reason my friend felt the need to dress as a chicken, his thinking being that if she were only to be but confronted by a chicken, she could then fully realize her own chickeness, and thus correct the error of her ways. And in so doing, democracy will be preserved with all candidates remaining on the ballot.
So we set out last Saturday to Fanuel Hall to meet Shannon at the candidate forum on children’s issues. Unfortunately, getting a chicken suit was saved for the last minute, and that last minute lasted an hour, which happened to be the hour the debate started. We completely missed the candidates’ entrance into the forum. But that worked out fine, because it gave us ample preparation time for the candidates’ exit. We waited in the cold afternoon, I holding a sign bearing the words “Shannon is a chicken,” and my friend walking the walk in his feathery yellow chicken outfit. Little kids loved the chicken, and there were many parents snapping pictures that day. There were also a few very nice girls wishing to get pictures while hugging the chicken. It could be said that the suit worked on many levels.
As people started to exit the Great Hall, the reason for the chicken’s being drew near. The candidates exited one by one. First, the chicken gave democrat Warren Tolman a firm handshake. Next to exit was democratic candidate Robert Reich. You really don’t get just how short Robert Reich is until you see him in person and standing next to a giant chicken. Libertarian candidate Carla Howell was greeted by the chicken’s support for the repeal of the Massachusetts state income tax and gun rights.
Then panic struck. Did we miss Shannon O’Brien? Had she taken a back exit, having been warned of our existence (chickening out on the chicken)?
No. She exited all right. And the chicken homed in. It was very noticeable that she was trying to avoid the chicken. The point was received. The confrontation was brief. A few words were exchanged and off she ran to her car. The chicken called out to her, “Shannon, come back! Where are you going? Stop running away! We chickens need to stick together!” Alas, his cries were in vain and she drove off.
The mission was a success. Shannon met the chicken. She looked into the window of her soul as she stood before the chicken. Hopefully the experience gave her pause about continuing the effort to remove Mitt Romney from the ballot. But if it didn’t, my friend the chicken plans on going to every Shannon O’Brien event until it does give her pause. But there’s more to it than politics though, I think he simply likes dressing as a chicken. If any of you reading this feel the urge to dress like a chicken and fight for democracy, or simply dress like a chicken and meet other chickens, follow Shannon’s campaign events. We’ll meet up.