Ever notice how Pepe Le Pew came on after Tweety Bird? Personally I think that dashing French skunk should have had his own stand-alone spin off, I think he was held back by that pesky little bird. But I suppose the folks at Loony Tunes felt a skunk and a bird got more of a laugh as a packaged deal.
For the record Pepe Le Pew is the only skunk I’ve ever liked.
Years ago when I lived in Arlington, MA, a neighborhood skunk launched warfare on my household. At about two in the morning we let the dog out in the backyard and a skunk sprayed him at very close distance. Ugh, the smell. It was unbearable. It traveled throughout the entire house, upstairs, into Little Chick’s nursery, found its way in closets and dresser drawers. I never thought I would escape the vile, pungent odor.
I took to the Internet and we quickly implemented any and all home remedies. At this point it was about three am, there’s no telling what our Puritan New England neighbors thought the crazy Texans were up to in the middle of the night. We washed the dog in V8, boiled vinegar, put open cans of coffee grounds in every room to absorb the scent.
The next day we loaded up the dog and Baby Little Chick and went to Cape Cod for the weekend. I was heartbroken because the skunk odor had even permeated my Kate Spade diaper bag. (Trust me, those Kate Spade diaper bags were all the rage back then.) It was more than I could handle. Of all the gross diapers and baby vomit that bag had seen, it couldn’t shake the skunk scent. I attacked it with wipes and 409 and aired it out the best I could.
Finally, I started to put the skunk nightmare behind me and enjoy the weekend. But just as I was walking out of some old timey candy shop a bird pooped on my shoulder and it dripped into the diaper bag.
A skunk and a bird walked into a bar….seemed the joke was on me.
Fast forward to present times…..last weekend the Professor and I went back over to Mississippi looking for redfish. The weather man had predicted clear skies, low tides midday, and winds from the East at six mph. They were right about everything except the winds….more like sixteen mph.
As the winds picked up, so did our frustration level. The Professor was struggling poling that boat and my cast was deteriorating – not that there was anything to cast at. We saw nothing. Nada. Niente. I would have settled for foul hooking a stingray at that point. (Yes, that has happened to me before.)
Sensing defeat, the Professor blurted out, “Can we just see one flippin’ redfish? Just give me one! I can’t believe we are getting skunked out here!”
The timing was uncanny, because that’s right when I saw it. A big redfish swimming right under the bow of the boat and right under my nose. “You mean like this one?”
“Cast! Cast! Cast!” he shouted.
The fish wasn’t traveling fast at all but I struggled into the wind to get the fly ahead of him. My best cast (which wasn’t great) plopped on his head. The worst part? He didn’t even spook. He didn’t even flinch. I didn’t even scare him. With his casual, calm cruising speed he was basically flipping me the bird.
And so once again, it’s a skunk…with a bird. And they had the last laugh.