Martin's Blues by derrymacash


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Here's a Challenge! idea sent in by JenEllen -- Gobbler's Gone For Good: Cemetery Turkey Is Laid To Rest - Death Is Not Due To Fowl Play -- (Spokane, WA) When a tom turkey strutted onto a cemetery just before Thanksgiving, people figured he was either a farm escapee trying to avoid ending up the centerpiece of a holiday dinner ir a wild bird just passing through. But the bird that became known as Martin A Gobbler remained for good, and he hardly overstayed his welcome. The turkey - eventually determined to be wild - took up residence for seven months, adding unsuspected levity to graveside services. The gobbler also attracted gawkers who came to see him chase cars in the parkinglot and fend off the ducks who invaded what he considered his turf. Martin died June 24th, and got a farewell fit for a creature far higher on the food chain. The bird, believed to be around a year old, was found dead on the grounds with no obvious signs of trauma. The memorial drew about 50 people and featured an altar, photo, and flowers with an attached note "Your gobble will be missed." The turkey's cremated remains are stored in a small blue urn in the office of the funeral director while they plan to incorporate them into a monument featuring a bronze turkey statue placed near the office entrance. The cemetery owner believes Martin's biggest burden in life was his apparent inability to find a mate. Staff never saw a hen on the grounds, and Martin's flamboyant displays of strutting and pecking car tires were merely for human consumption. "He didn't enjoy his life of celibacy at all" stated the groundskeeper "He would get all fluffed up and parade around here like he owned the place. He was trying to attract a mate and there were none to attract."

Martin's Blues by derrymacash

There's one kind favour I'll ask of you
There's one kind favour I'll ask of you
No turkey mess on my burial place
Won't you see that my grave is kept clean

Can't you hear that gobblin' sound?
Can't you hear that gobblin' sound?
Can't you hear that gobblin' sound?
Turkey in the buryin' ground

Scratching on my burial mound
Scratching on my burial mound
Scratching on my burial mound
I hear him from below the ground

Serve him up with spuds and beans
Serve him up with spuds and beans
Serve him up with spuds and beans
And see that my grave is kept clean