Tuesday, July 9, 2013


It was a uniquely exciting moment when I realized the object on my friend Rachel’s deck was a deflated rubber turkey and not a deflated beach ball painted to look like meat. She had been using it as a flotation device at the beach. “I don’t know what’s wrong with it,” she said, “It won’t inflate anymore!” I picked it up and blew into its rubber valve as hard as I could, but the valve wouldn’t open and it made my face hurt. It also made me a little dizzy. I stood there swaying slightly and recalling the intoxicating scent of the bin of beach balls at the Fred Meyer near the house where I grew up. The turkey still lay shriveled on the deck the next morning. The light an inflatable turkey makes the least sense in is daylight.

If you find food on the street, send location and description to sgalvin1000@gmail.com

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