First off if you have not read The Bloggess post about Beyonce the giant metal chicken, this won’t make much sense. Drink the Kool-aid read the blog.
When the fabulous Katie brought this post to my attention, I laughed until there were tears streaming down my face. An activity that doesn’t happen often enough in my life. I could hear the exchange between Jenny & Victor in my head, because it was so close the exchanges between my parents. I could totally see my mother pulling something like this but with a flamingo rather than a chicken.
After my initial laughter died down – lust set in. It was overwhelming: the need to have my very own giant metal chicken.
I have looked for my own Beyonce- but not in an overwhelming scour the malls of the state way. I’m waiting for a Saturday when I can kidnap a girlfriend and search all day. (Who is coming with me??)
I did scout around for Beyonce a bit and almost came home with a fabulous metal Pelican. It was rather fitting for a Floridian – but he just wasn’t quite obnoxious enough for me. I have calmed the need with a colorful little rooster AKA Jay-z. AND the most amazing flying pig – she’s not metal or big – but damn she has the cutest little pig butt and a total attitude.
As I was searching for my big metal chicken I stopped to think – why the hell do I want this big metal chicken?
The answer was so stunningly simple it really threw me.
Because I can.
It may sound silly at first, but there is a true logic. The Big Metal Chicken actually is all about the fact I have finally come into my own.
I couldn’t have had a big metal chicken in my 20’s. I was broke & struggling – just hoping to have enough money for a cute outfit from Ross & cocktails on the weekends.
My 30’s I was married to a cheap ass son of a bitch and struggling to raise my daughter. There is no way that I would have had the time or money to seek out and buy a giant metal chicken. (But how the hell did he manage to go on a freaking week long boys trip every year while I didn’t have enough for groceries?? )
Now I have reached my mid-forties. I am divorced from the cheap SOB.
I am control of my money again and doing fine. It took me years of hard work & ramen noodles to get here – and I’m still paying off those years!
FINALLY – I can blow a couple hundred dollars on just me and the sky will not fall.
I just never do it.
When I got divorced I did not go out and do anything crazy. No meaningless sex. No tattoo. Damn I’m boring…
I think a big metal chicken might be the type of rebellion I need. Who wouldn’t want to come sit on my back porch have a glass with Beyonce & me while looking for Herman’s friends. Plus I bet a big old metal chicken would freak out the crazed raccoons.
I need to buy that big metal chicken to have her stare me in the face daily and saying – “Get your crazy on and stop being so darn practical. Life is short.”
We all need our personal big metal chicken to remind us!
Oh and I’d love to see the look on my ex’s face when he pulled up & Beyonce was looking at him.
“Knock, Knock MF!”