- Books, Literature, and Writing»
- Commercial & Creative Writing»
- Creative Writing»
- Humor Writing
My Kingdom to be Bigfoot For Only One Day
The argument never ends
Is he, she, it real? Is he, she, it not real? I have heard raging arguments from both sides concerning the validity of Sasquatch a/k/a Bigfoot, the muscular, tall creature covered in hair who's scream in any section of dark woods can petrify even Sylvester Stallone. That, folks, is strong and scary.
I wish I could just ignore the theories and arguments of if he exists or not, but that would be a bit senseless, for there, I believe, are those who have actually seen "something" on two legs and scowling through some dirty hair and then running into the distance and just disappearing leaving a few big footprints as clues for eager men and women to continue their search for this beast.
I too, have queries
Before we go any further, the questions I have about Bigfoot are sensible. And should be easy to answer.
1. Since Bigfoot's first debut into our world, or his, in 1972, allowing Roger Patterson and his partner to film him as he walk away. This film has to be the most scrutinized, analyzed piece of evidence ever connected to Bigfoot, so if this creature is so tall and strong, why does he, the Bigfoot always run or walk away when he could just tear the humans from limb to limb without any trouble?
2. If Bigfoot is an air breathing creature, then he has to face death like every living thing, but hey, no skeletal remains have ever been found of his mysterious beast? Why?
3. Why, overall, has the sightings of Bigfoot only been reported by average people--campers, hunters, fishermen? Why doesn't a group of retired Navy SEALs get together and stalk this gorilla-like beast and if they corner him, just use tranquilizers to put him to sleep until the proper authorities arrive? And these SEALs are made to understand they are not to harm or shoot the Bigfoot with bullets to kill him.
Proof? You be the judge
Questions mean more questions
I cannot answer my own questions. Neither can you. Oh, we could offer up some educated-ramblings filled with scientific-sounding words, but that is not an answer. Maybe we are only destined to just be casual observers until one day, Bigfoot comes to us and reveals what he has been up to. Until then we are only to study him or her from afar and sigh from a burning desire to want to know Bigfoot better than we do now.
To honor the numerous sightings of Bigfoot, I have designed a hub that I want to call:
My Kingdom to be Bigfoot For Only One Day
and I hope you enjoy it.
Bigfoot in various views
Now if I were Bigfoot for 24 hours . . .I would . . .
- Not obey the police and run smack dab through the middle of New York like a wild man. (See my reversal play on words there?)
- Charge right into any Kentucky Fried Chicken restaurant I please and eat like a horse. (I cannot stop these reversal play on words.)
- Climb to the top of the Empire State Building in honor of King Kong, beat my muscular chest, and hold up a huge sign that read: "Now Get Me, Fighter Planes!" NOTE: Yes, I would carry a pretty girl up to the top with me. Jessica Alba comes to mind. Did you think that I was stupid?
- Go on a "dating spree" and date any Hollywood starlet I wanted. Without being arrested.
- Be THE guest, the one and only guest on The Tonight Show, Conan, Late Night with Jimmy Kimmel, and yes, I would talk like I talk now except a lot deeper.
- Let TIME, CNN, Fox, CBS, NBC, and ABC pay me a huge royalty for being on one of their news programs. Sure, I would dress up like a Bigfoot celebrity should with a designer tux, black patent leather shoes, and lacy shirt. ZZ Top, the legendary rock band who's song, "Sharp Dressed Man," sold a million in 1984, would re-release that song and change the lyrics to . . ."every girl's crazy 'bout a sharp-dressed Bigfoot!"
- Head over to where our Armed Forces are battling ISIS and without any problem, attack them at night. They'd never know what hit them. And the stories they would tell their fellow ISIS members. Some might be kicked-out of the gang and committed to an asylum.
- Try-out for any NFL team that I liked. And make it. For any position that I wanted. Not what the coaches told me to take.
- Sit in the bleachers of any MLB stadium and yell, pound on the seats, throw food, yell to the top of my lungs and see if the human security guards would dare challenge me to leave.
- Board any airliner that I wanted. I guess Homeland Security would be in a jam not knowing if I were American or from a dangerous foreign country.
- Just for kicks, pay visits to the bullies (who are still living) who purposely caused me grief when I was a human and see how long it would be before they begged me to leave.
Visit any restaurant that offered All-You-Can-Eat Buffet and do just that.
Visit the University of Alabama and get my photo snapped with their gorgeous cheerleaders and majorettes.
- Go to New York City and visit the finest hair salon and get "the works," from head to toe and then strut down Fifth Avenue singing, "Sittin' on The Dock of The Bay."Speaking of New York City, I would charge down Fifth Avenue and head to the biggest theater and interrupt whatever big play or musical is in full-swing. Then I would, with all my might, start singing, "That's Life," by "Ol' Blue Eyes, The Man, Frank Sinatra, with such perfection that the crowd goes wild thinking my singing is part of the production. Then I would continue my singing with another Sinatra hit, "New York! New York!," and take a crowd of fans down the sidewalk and when the crowd grows until it is a safety hazard, I would call upon New York's Finest, the N.Y.P.D., to escort the fine people to a safe place, like a restaurant while I easily convince the restaurant owner to give the crowd and police a complimentary meal while I disappear from sight.
- Sign a huge, lucrative recording contract with MCA Records and MTV would blast to the No. 1 television network by playing my videos. I would score a few million dollars, put some in my bank, pay off some deserving middle-class family's mortgge and other bills and other families hospital bills and such, write a book and score more bucks. Then retire and be content reading and writing for HubPages.
Note: By now you know that I could on and on. And on. But you get the gist. And when I magically changed back to me, I would sit down and write a book about the most-amazing 24 hours in my life.
Would you buy a copy?