Labcoats and Lairs

Paradise of Birb

The bird is cosmically significant, in a very insignificant way.

Deepstyle and digital painting.

But aside from that my mother loathes political signs. You know the ones. They go up on road medians and stick around for months after the election ends because no one bothers to pick them up.

So one day in my childhood long ago I was sitting in the front seat, just kid baggage getting hauled around on errands by my mom. After a while my mom realized the car in front of us was placing those hated signs.

My mom had a couple trains of thought. The first was that we were in the family truck. The second was we had no pressing business. And the third was that we needed to insulate the chicken coop.

Suddenly mom announced we were having an adventure. We were punishing the big bad littering machine by taking their signs. I was utterly delighted by this. We began to follow the election campaign car, pausing after they did. I’d leap out, snatch the sign and toss it into the bed of the truck as fast as I could before flinging myself back into my seat.

It took a long time for the sign car to realize what was happening. They got out to yell at my mom who stoically informed them that the signs were being left on public property and as such counted as litter. The person huffed at her and drove away. Mom followed along hopefully but they were done placing signs.

After that we made a game of snagging signs when we saw them, amassing quite a collection.

It was really easy to steal and consequently got stolen several times. We always got it back though. Anyone could’ve stolen it, really. With no car jacking experience necessary anyone could drive off in it. Even you. This truck was like an excessively friendly lab, it would go home with anyone.

Foremost in ease of theft, neither door locked. But second and only slightly less easy: the truck would accept anything as a key.

My dad kept a loose saw blade on the dash to use as a key. The first time I saw him do it I was horrified that instead of a key the ignition answered to a loose bit of a power tool.

When my dad saw my expression he held up the saw blade and made an attempt to connect with the youth.