Terry Traveller Series – The Bird Man of Borax

Terry on laundry day in a sarong… and I thought the parka was bad. – Editor

As a world traveler with so many miles underfoot, I sometimes forget about the exciting adventures that take place in the mundane activities of home.

I suppose the day had started out like any other.

I awoke to the familiar sounds of a garbage truck and early morning commotion to the thought, “where am I?” I took in my surrounds and realized I was once again home from my latest excursion.

I stumbled though making coffee and assessed the needs of the day.

My travel bag was stuffed with fragrant polyester blends, my fridge void of sustenance, and my tower of mail necessitated a Viking funeral. First things first: to the Laundromat!

Some people hate going to the Laundromat- the hot, humid environment, loud banging noises, the constant worry that someone will steal their clothing- these are not concerns of mine. Years in foreign lands made the practice a luxury for it is far better than beating my clothes against a rock. And my Laundromat has antenna TV and 25 cent coffee.

Somehow, I knew this trip would be different than the rest. Perhaps it was the single car parked in the lot- a fiery orange Camero with grey leather interior, an open trunk and no driver in sight. But soon I saw its owner: a middle-aged man dressed in his teenage son’s gangster clothing. I was draped in my Hawaiian sarong and alpaca sweater. No one judges your clothing on Laundry Day. No, it was his companion that caught my attention.

Perched atop the communal wheelie-cart was a large, orange and grey parrot. I nodded to the impressive winged-fellow and he returned the salutation with a loud squawk that reverberated against the metal machinery. It was a sound I was accustomed to in the deep jungles or avian exhibit at the zoo, but even to this world traveler it was a curious sound and sight to behold.

For the next hour the parrot sat atop his metal branch and commented on the acting talents of Three’s Company, singing out in a sarcastic caw at each canned laugh. I was slightly offended by his judgmental responses to classic 70s melodrama until Ralph Furley entered and the bird chirped, spread his wings, and clicked his approval for the great Don Knotts. His driver sat silent, staring into his cellular telephone.

At the end of the show the bird called out his farewells, climbed onto and pooped upon the man’s shoulder, and left the Laundromat. In the relative silence I realized once again the meaning of life: Wear, Wash, Rinse, Repeat. We wear the clothes, outside forces soil them, we wash the clothes, and the spinning cycle of life repeats, all to the sounds of loud cackles and caws.

I went on with the rest of my day, performing each mundane task with a revitalized sense of purpose. Bring on the sarcastic parrots and monochromatic feces- each is a truly unique experience.

This is Terry Traveler saying, it may not be true, but it might as well be.

– Terry

Terry Traveller
Email: terry@discoveradel.com
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