G.O.A.T. (A Tangent)

“This GOAT thing really gets your goat, doesn’t it?”

For once – for once! – Mack’s intruding on my beauty sleep did not “get my goat.” The “GOAT Thing” has always been a bit of a sore point with me, and such was the case when I had hit the sack earlier.

“Mack, you know the saying about “Lies, damned lies, and statistics?”

“Mark Twain, I believe, is credited with that saying?”

“Correct. But he omitted one category.”

“What’s that?”

“Factoids.”

“Huh!!”

“Factoids. Statements that, when made frequently enough, are taken to be true.”

“Oh! Like, for instance …?”

“The ostrich buries its head in the sand in the face of danger.”

“Hmm. And …it doesn’t?”

“No. There is no recorded instance of that act. In fact, the much-maligned critter was most likely just moving around it’s eggs in its nest.”

“Really??”

“Indeed. It does lay eggs, and the nest is usually on the ground.”

“Because it’s incapable of flight.”

“Right. And it has to move the eggs around ever so often. I don’t know why.”

“So let me see … it would be too risky to use its feet, because the egg might be crushed …”

“Quick learner, you are!”

“Gracias! And! Also, its wings are practically useless for that exercise.”

“Punto!”

“So it uses its head.”

“There you go!”

“And there I was imagining the poor creature as the poster boy for cowardice!”

“Object lesson for humanity.”

“How so?”

“Many people use their feet where their head should be and crush their dreams.”

“Right!! I’m off!”

“Off to … where?”

“Court.”

“What?”

“Court. To make a case for the ostrich.”

“For … why, pray tell?”

“I’m gonna help the ostrich community to sue humanity for defamation of character!”

“Oh, boy …”