I like predators. I do.
I even like “Predator 2” with Danny Glover. I get judged harshly over this one, but I think it holds up well as an action movie. They aren’t trying to change the world with these films, so we don’t have to be snobs about them. As far as I can tell, their main thrust is just to show the audience how various things look through heat-sensitive goggles, and I am so down with that. Show us a microwave burrito! A gas station hot dog that is cold in the middle! Holy shit, show us a dog peeing on a hydrant on a clear autumn day! I love it all.
But, mostly I love cartoon predators. The Looney Toons variety. I adored Sylvester and hated Tweety Bird. (Nobody likes a tattletale, kids.)
Mostly, though, I hated that fucking smug roadrunner as much as poor Wile E. Coyote ever did. I mean, the bird never had to pay its dues – just kept eating free bird seed and running away.
Where is the sympathy for the coyote who is starving in the desert and wasting all his money on defective gadgets? I never understood why he didn’t just have some pre-killed roadrunner shipped to him, but I guess, like the T Rex in “Jurassic Park,” he did not want to be fed, he wanted to chase his dinner. I suppose I’m always gonna root for the underdog – the guy who keeps getting knocked down and standing back up, because those characters are portraying our human condition. There are no roadrunners in real life. They are a myth.
Michael and I saw two coyotes walking near the side of the road as we were driving to Lexington this past weekend. We do not know anything about coyotes and their habits, but we found it strange they were so visible. It was early morning but long after sunrise. I surmised that maybe these coyotes held jobs on the city council there. He suggested their primary concern as concilmen would be to have speed bumps installed to “slow down all these damn birds.” I got that joke after a few beats and decided I married a genius.
Anyway, today I am gonna attempt to declog our basement drain. I’m going to science it using vinegar and baking soda. And, because I am actually Wile E. Coyote, our house may explode. Don’t worry though, we’ll just draw a new one.
That’s all, folks.