Deadlines are fast approaching, and I hate to admit it, but I’m out of ideas. Everybody’s got their hands on the halloween themed articles, and here I am, unable to conjure up any evil spirits or even a tiny, insipid article, for that matter. Regardless, come Sunday, it’ll either be a terrible article, or my resignation letter. Between the two almost equally bad options, I’m afraid that I may still have to torture you lovely readers with option one, because I really, really like my job (even though it doesn’t pay). That said, when out of ideas, one has a couple options: the first one, and probably the most popular, endorsed by the likes of Lord Byron and Edgar Allen Poe, is to drink. And drink a lot. Once you’ve got some alcohol in you to get the creative juices flowing (I know that sounds disgusting), the ink just flows right out of the pen onto the paper, or in case of the 21st century, the words just push that cursor across the page. Huh. Too bad I can’t drink. (But for those of you who want to find low price but high quality wines, check out “For the Love of (Budget) Wine” by our very own Mackenzie Way. https://www.hercampus.com/school/harvard/love-budget-wine)
So now when one is still want of inspiration, it’s a brilliant idea to take a walk around the surrounding area, and see if there’s anything to unblock your writer’s block. And wouldn’t you know–when life gives you lemons, make lemonade. When life gives you the Harvard Turkey, write about it. So the Harvard Turkey and I essentially had a little bit of a heart-to-heart, and here this the dialogue. As proof that this actually happened, here is a photo of the Harvard Turkey outside of the Winn.
Harvard Turkey, center, and selfie-taking girl off to the right.
HCH: Hey there, Harvard Turkey, how are you doing today?
HT: Gobble.
HCH: Yeah, me too. So…ya know you might’ve been the national bird or something?
HT: Gobble.
HCH: Right. Yeah. It’s pretty sad, isn’t it? Bald eagles, swooping right in with all the glory.
And turkeys–they’re just a customary dish on Thanksgiving. I mean, you think
everything’s going correctly, but then…
HT: Oh for the love of phoenixes! Would you be quiet! I’m trying to meditate, and I can’t
find my inner peace or think about my koans with you squawking so loudly on the side.
HCH: Oh. Well sorry…I mean…what are you pondering?
HT: Why turkeys, or poultry in general never get to be the mascot of things. I’ve never
heard of a single place who’s used an edible bird as their mascot. No–you have
cardinals and blue jays, but have you ever heard of the turkeys? Or the hens?
HCH: Um, well there are the Oregon Ducks…I believe
HT: Bah! Ducks are aquatics. They don’t count. (tilts head) What is exactly is Harvard’s
Mascot anyways? A swatch of Crimson paint?
HCH: Um…good question…I’m not really sure.
Aside: The turkey really got me. I mean, it’s the Yale Bulldogs, and Columbia Lions.
Princeton has the tigers, UPenn has the quakers, I mean, Dartmouth has a keg…
(A keg? Who in the world has a keg as a mascot.)
HT: Exactly! So don’t you think that you guys should adopt the turkey as your mascot?
Think about it! The Harvard Turkeys. Or the Crimson Turkeys! It sounds amazing!
HCH: Right.
HT: The banana slugs even got a chance to be a mascot! The banana slug! And they’ve
got it all fancy and reading Plato and wearing glasses. Banana slugs don’t read Plato–
Turkeys do. And next time you guys have Harvard Yale, you won’t even need someone
to dress in a costume–I can be there as the mascot. How wonderful would that be?
HCH: I can’t wait for Harvard Yale! Actually, it’s not so far off! So, with Thanksgiving
around the corner–
HT: Gobble! Where? (looks around the corner and hides behind me.)
HCH: Sorry–it, um, it was a metaphor. I just mean that with Thanksgiving approaching…
HT: You never saw me! Gobble, Gobble! (looks behind itself and takes off.)
HCH: Uh…well okay, that was successful. Thanks for reading everyone, and have a
Wonderful Halloween.
NB: Apparently the mascot of Harvard is John Harvard the Pilgrim…