Thursday, January 25, 2007

The genius of the rubber chicken

Boss, with whom I have a very positive relationship: “Oh, I’m just feeling a little frazzled and pulled in a million directions at the moment.”

Self: “Would you like to borrow my rubber chicken?”

Boss does double take, does not know how to respond. Co-worker Julian giggles. Boss catches my goofy grin, laughs, but declines use of chicken, which I have been known to mangle in times of stress. His loss.

Allow me to introduce all of you to an item of genius: the rubber chicken.

I bought the it at the AGO a couple of years ago, I think. Somehow a chicken was a symbol or icon of an art exhibit about the future, so they were selling these extremely homely rubber chickens in the gift shop. I bought a couple as gag gifts and kept one for myself,

Over many months, this chicken has received incredible abuse. Often, when I am stressed at work, I repeatedly bang its floppy little head against my desk. Or I’ll pull its leg to hear and feel it snap back into place. It is inexpressibly cathartic. (There are worse things, all right??? I take pains to not take my frustrations out on other people, for example.)

I love offering stressed people the use/abuse of my rubber chicken. It’s surreal enough to offer a laugh at least, which eases the tension that person is feeling. They may not understand the genius of the rubber chicken, but I do. And I’m not too chicken to play the clown in my own quirky way to elicit a laugh from someone who needs it.

:)

Eclecta

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