First Turkey of the Year

Every year should have some Firsts in it.

Preferably one a week. More often if they’re welcome Firsts. Less often if they’re not.

Here we see the first Turkey of the year, and a fine specimen this joyous creature is!

We always wonder if, when we see the first of something in The Wild, is it a scout or a harbinger.

Considering the number of turkeys we’ve entertained at any one moment, we suspect neither.

More like someone getting to the table early, better to get the best seat and the tastiest offerings.

We’ll let you know.

 

Boasting to the Vacuum

I wrote a few weeks back about a flirting Tom in OOh OOh Ain’t I Pretty?.

That fellow’s at it again…and with much the same results.

Watching mating behaviors amuses me greatly.

Sometimes I even watch The Wild‘s mating behaviors.

Nowhere near as amusing as Two-Legs’ behaviors, though…

 

OOh OOh Ain’t I Pretty?

Continuing with my sexist pig rambling started in Lucky Tom (and what a sexist thought), I digress a moment to recognize the costly signalling of mating behaviors.

Care to calculate the biologic cost, the sheer energy demands upon a Tom’s system, to create and maintain their mating display?

It is staggering.

Signal Theory is a pet study of mine. It deals with the economic (in the true and broader concept of “economic”) cost of some action, behavior, speech, whatever, it doesn’t matter, put it into Signal Theory and you discover the real reason for the behavior and that reason, my readers, is so far and away from what someone’s stated reason for acting, behaving, speaking, whatevering, is as to be astounding.

A Tom’s display, for example, is really no different than the young Two-Legs male purchasing a flashy car, buying flashy clothes, having a posh flat, spending hours at the gym, so on and so forth.

Both are attempts to Signal their appropriateness, their attractiveness to some interesting other.

What’s truly wonderful about Signal Theory is, figure out what’s really being signalled and why and you learn more about the person than one could hope to imagine.

For example, women who are avid (I was tempted to write “rabid”) Trump supporters.

I, personally, can’t understand why a self-respecting woman would be a Trump supporter. He’s a blatant, misogynistic idiot (that last part’s all on me. The first two are from public record).

So what does a woman gain by supporting him?

Signal Theory suggests we look at it from a mating perspective (not all Signal Theory deals with mating behavior, but it is handy, isn’t it?).

Women as a class are long-term investors who favor stability over excitement (something research, my own and others) has demonstrated.

Male Trump supports tend to be staunch and rabid republicans.

Male republicans as a class are conservative, stable, and have solid financial presents and futures.

Things, by the way, for which Trump is the poster child.

Especially considering his multiple bankruptcies.

So why some women support Trump?

Because it increases their desirability in the eyes and minds of stable, conservative, financially solid males.

Yeah.

Signal Theory.

Gotta love it.

 

Lucky Tom (and what a sexist thought)

Sometimes my thoughts reveal me to be a sexist pig.

I’m sure the fact that I’m a sexist pig is neither revelatory nor shocking to anyone who knows me.

It was much simpler being a sexist pig when I was blind.

I could bump into people and they’d think it was their fault.

Now, with near-perfect eyesight, my old methods don’t work anymore.

Except in my thoughts.

I have to be on guard.

So, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go wash my brain out with soap.

Meanwhile, enjoy.

 

Teenage Turkeys at the High School Dance

Remember those high school dances?

When the guys stayed on one side of the gym and the girls stayed on the other with exception of those already paired up?

My high schooling occurred during that turbulent era when many still wanted to be with someone and an equal many were willing to come solo or – god forbid – in same-sex pairs.

Note, not homosexual pairs.

Oh, no, not that.

Not in my little town (with do apologies to Simon&Garfunkel).

Oh, we had them.

I know because I counted some, not all, as my friends.

Jan, for one. A truly beautiful, elegant, long-legged girl who confided she had the best of Rick and he came up a far cry from Judy who attended Memorial.

Good for you, Jan. And for Judy.

It doesn’t bother you?

I laughed and joked. “Not if I can watch.”

She cracked up, as well.

You could get away with things like that back then. Once people knew they could trust you and could be themselves around you.

Boy, how she laughed.