Life lessons learned from one angry bird

Remember Foghorn Leghorn?

Man, I always loved him. He’s my pop’s favorite, too. He’s that arrogant cartoon rooster from the Looney Toons series. You know, the good old Southern boy squawker who quips stuttering one-liners chock full of sarcasm and hilarious similes and metaphors. They are entirely offensive and politically incorrect, BTW.

And other than his horrendous treatment of the poor, long-suffering Barnyard Dawg, whom he loves to mercilessly tease and even wallop on occasion, I do find the faux fowl uproariously funny. Especially when he’s taking the brilliant, diminutive Henery Hawk to school. Henery’s mission in life is to capture and eat Foghorn — even though he’s about 1/30 the size of his desired prey.

Pitifully outwitted by Henery, Foghorn must resort to good old-fashioned street smarts to best the annoying little bugger. Their banter is legendary, yo.

Foghorn Leghorn is comical because he’s got the feathers to spout off what many of us are thinking but would never, in a million years, say to one of the other humans for fear of being plucked, dipped in batter, rolled in extra crunchy coating and deep fried, you dig? Some of my favorite Foghorn wisecracks include:

“That boy’s about as sharp as a bowling ball.”

“That boy’s as timid as a canary at a cat show.”

“Smart boy, got a mind like a steel trap — full of mice.”

“Oh, that woman, got a mouth like an outboard motor.”

“That dog’s like taxes, he just don’t know when to stop.”

“Boy’s got a mouth like a cannon, always shootin’ it off.”

“This boy’s more mixed up than a feather in a whirlwind.”

“That, I say, that dog’s busier than a centipede at a toe countin’ contest.”

“Look, sister, is any of this filterin’ through that little blue bonnet of yours.”

And, of course, my all time favorite Foghorn to Henery jab: “Go, I say, go away boy, you bother me.”

Granted, he ends up eating crow much of the time, but still, why can’t I be more Leghorn-like? I mean, the next time someone really gets my tail feathers in a bunch, I’d love to go all Foghorn on them.

Here are a few everyday scenarios in which I currently recoil into myself instead of saying what’s really on my mind. Beside them are the retorts I would love to actually reply, all Foghorn-style, natch.

• When you are clearly buried under a mountain of tasks and someone, seeing such, walks into your office anyway with an “Are you busy?” — No. And if you believe that, you’re thicker than a can of paste on the North Pole.

• When your friend sees a photo of you from seven years ago and tells you your hubby looks the same but you look considerably older today — well, thanks for that. I haven’t felt this good since my last, I say, since my last root canal.

• When you’ve explained to a caller for 15 minutes why you need to hang up but they still won’t let you go — Is there a whole loaf of cornbread in each of your ears, boy?

• When you know someone has tossed you under the bus but smiles and acts like they’re your BFF to your face — Why, it’s lovely to chat with you. I always have enjoyed big bursts, I say, big burst of hot air right in the kisser.

I say now, those are just jokes… mostly.

Kimerer is a Tribune Chronicle columnist currently channeling crotchety chickens. Visit her at your own risk at www.patriciakimerer.com

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