What Does Mister Turkey Say?
"Gobble, gobble, gobble."
Throughout my middle and high school years, the Wednesday before Thanksgiving was always marked by a special assembly at 10 AM. An English teacher would appear wearing a paper mache turkey head, a pilgrim fat suit, and buckle shoes. Mr Turkey, as this middle aged man's alter ego was known, would then sing the following song:
What does Mr. Turkey Say?
Gobble, gobble, gobble.
Tomorrow is Thanksgiving Day!
Gobble, gobble, gobble.
The song was sung in unison by the entire student body and teaching staff and concluded with great whoops and cheers. It was generally followed by a brief skit written by Mr. Turkey himself and performed by an ever-changing array of other faculty who were given brown ponchos with red waddles sewn onto the hoods. Finally, Mr. Turkey would reprise his theme song, don his turkey head, and return to the English department via elevator. The song was then sung in Latin, French, and (hilariously) Chinese, by groups of students studying those languages. After the whole thing had ended, the Thanksgiving break had officially begun and giddy children flooded into the streets for an afternoon of pre-holiday mischief.
The event was, in other words, a tremendously silly and self-indulgent affair. The skits drew heavily from either English litterature, popular culture, or both, yielding rap operas based on Shakespearean plays and the like. In all, however, I must say that I enjoyed those assemblies greatly, and more to the point, I find such silliness and self-indulgence worthwhile. This is why I have decided to start writing this blog.
(It should be noted here that mister skethee! is by no means a reference to Mr. Turkey. The English teacher in question could often be found at a local OTB franchise, putting his salary on the line for the ponies, and though he was an excellent teacher and an upstanding man, I never considered him worthy of emulation.)
I intend to comment on the following things, in no particular order: architecture, graphic design, politics, media, urbanism. Those who find little interest in these subjects needn't fret; there will be ample time for edifying digressions of the sort found above, as well as miscellany and sundry items I feel the need to publicize.
That being said, I would also note that this Thanksgiving turned out to be a pleasant one for my family. We dined at the Fraunces Tavern on Pearl Street in lower Manhattan, a former haunt of GW himself (George Washington, not George W., although a letter from Colin Powell's secretary was prominently displayed among other, much older documents of historical import.) Though turkey was available, I opted for the pork loin as it came with roasted potatoes in place of chestnut brussel sprouts. Having recently seen National Treasure, I was all too eager to eat and drink where our founding fathers had done when in New York. The Blue Point Blueberry Ale was also excellent.
After the meal, my parents were kind enough to take me along with them to Sideways, which proved to be a great deal more entertaining than I had anticipated and, though it pains me to admit it, a far better film than National Treasure. The evening finds me in good spirits, well-supped and deeply engrossed in a season of ESPN NFL 2K5 (Harrington's Lions stand at 5-0).
More to come soon.
Throughout my middle and high school years, the Wednesday before Thanksgiving was always marked by a special assembly at 10 AM. An English teacher would appear wearing a paper mache turkey head, a pilgrim fat suit, and buckle shoes. Mr Turkey, as this middle aged man's alter ego was known, would then sing the following song:
What does Mr. Turkey Say?
Gobble, gobble, gobble.
Tomorrow is Thanksgiving Day!
Gobble, gobble, gobble.
The song was sung in unison by the entire student body and teaching staff and concluded with great whoops and cheers. It was generally followed by a brief skit written by Mr. Turkey himself and performed by an ever-changing array of other faculty who were given brown ponchos with red waddles sewn onto the hoods. Finally, Mr. Turkey would reprise his theme song, don his turkey head, and return to the English department via elevator. The song was then sung in Latin, French, and (hilariously) Chinese, by groups of students studying those languages. After the whole thing had ended, the Thanksgiving break had officially begun and giddy children flooded into the streets for an afternoon of pre-holiday mischief.
The event was, in other words, a tremendously silly and self-indulgent affair. The skits drew heavily from either English litterature, popular culture, or both, yielding rap operas based on Shakespearean plays and the like. In all, however, I must say that I enjoyed those assemblies greatly, and more to the point, I find such silliness and self-indulgence worthwhile. This is why I have decided to start writing this blog.
(It should be noted here that mister skethee! is by no means a reference to Mr. Turkey. The English teacher in question could often be found at a local OTB franchise, putting his salary on the line for the ponies, and though he was an excellent teacher and an upstanding man, I never considered him worthy of emulation.)
I intend to comment on the following things, in no particular order: architecture, graphic design, politics, media, urbanism. Those who find little interest in these subjects needn't fret; there will be ample time for edifying digressions of the sort found above, as well as miscellany and sundry items I feel the need to publicize.
That being said, I would also note that this Thanksgiving turned out to be a pleasant one for my family. We dined at the Fraunces Tavern on Pearl Street in lower Manhattan, a former haunt of GW himself (George Washington, not George W., although a letter from Colin Powell's secretary was prominently displayed among other, much older documents of historical import.) Though turkey was available, I opted for the pork loin as it came with roasted potatoes in place of chestnut brussel sprouts. Having recently seen National Treasure, I was all too eager to eat and drink where our founding fathers had done when in New York. The Blue Point Blueberry Ale was also excellent.
After the meal, my parents were kind enough to take me along with them to Sideways, which proved to be a great deal more entertaining than I had anticipated and, though it pains me to admit it, a far better film than National Treasure. The evening finds me in good spirits, well-supped and deeply engrossed in a season of ESPN NFL 2K5 (Harrington's Lions stand at 5-0).
More to come soon.
posted by mister sketchee! at 2:50 AM
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