The Sandoval Signpost

An Independent Monthly Newspaper Serving the Community since 1988


Daniel Will Harris

The Sandoval Signpost (Web edition) is pleased as punch (diet punch that is) to bring you the humor and insightful human observations of Daniel Will Harris, author of My Wife and Times. —Ed].

Something Fowl

By Daniel Will Harris

It all started with a giant chicken. I am not making this up. If I hadn't seen the 12 foot tall fiberglass chicken, things would be much different today.

On the way to do some shopping I saw the giant chicken, in a giant coop, next to a little antique store.

As we whizzed by, I said to my wife, "Did you see that giant chicken?" Looking back it's amazing that she just said, "No, where?" as if giant chickens were perfectly natural. I told her that it was at an antique shop we'd passed hundreds of times and she said, "I've always wanted to go there, but they're always closed. You want to turn around and go back?"

Well, see, right there I should have sensed trouble. My wife does not believe in turning around. I have never understood why, but whenever I say, "I can turn around" she says, "Never go back." It's one of those things that, from the tone of her voice, I've never even questioned.

If I'd stopped and thought, then I'd have realized I was making a u-turn into the Twilight Zone. I turned around in the driveway of a store called "Artsy Fartsy," (I swear I am not making this up, which makes it all the scarier).

We parked right next to this shop, which is never open, and oddly, it was open. Another clue that something was wrong that I stupidly didn't see. And I should have known better, too, because this whole little area has weird vibes. A few years ago, just across the street from where we parked, there was an old store that one day went from being a shack to a palace, with bright Christmas lights all over, thousands of them, blinking all the time. We'd drive by at 2 am and it would be lit up, flashing, and open. It was very enticing, glowing as it did. We jokingly referred to it as, "The Gates of Hell, Always Open!" And we wisely never stopped.

But in the bright daylight, nothing seemed odd about a 12 foot chicken by the side of the road. It was like one of those horror movies where the people in the movie think everything's perfectly normal, and everyone in the audience is screaming, "Don't go in! Don't go in!"

And like the idiots in scary movies, we went right in. I asked the price of the giant chicken and was told it wasn't for sale. Of course not, this evil chicken was placed there solely to lure poor unsuspecting eccentrics who, for some unknown reason, thought it might be fun to have a giant chicken on their driveway.

I added my name to a long waiting list of people who have probably all suffered something unspeakable by now. I even supplied my phone number—who knows what horrors await me from that. Heavy breathing. Calls from telemarketers during meals. I don't even want to think about it.

We started to walk back across the gravel parking lot, and no sooner did I have the key in the car door when I heard my wife screaming, "Oh no! Oh, oh, oh!" I ran over to find her lying on the ground, writhing in pain, a cloud of dust swirling around her.

I looked for a giant chicken footprint next to her. But no, these giant fowl are too clever for that. I saw a truck backing up and wondered if she'd been hit (she's always walking behind cars that are backing up and I'm always telling her not to)--but maybe the chicken had just made it look that way!

I wanted to threaten the evil fowl with a box of Shake 'N Bake, but I had to get my wife in the car before it returned. I helped her up, but she couldn't walk and was in so much pain she couldn't talk, either—so I didn't know what really happened. I put her in the back seat with her feet up, and she told me to go get ice.

Even with ice, it wasn't long before her ankle looked like she was wearing a bagel anklet. Two x-rays later I was informed that would be months until she could walk normally again. As the doctor said, torn ligaments can take longer to heal than a clean break. What a cheerful little earful he was.

So the moral of this? Loose gravel and holiday shopping can be hazardous to your health. Shop online (and when you do, learn from what the sites you visit do right—and wrong).

And enjoy everything you can—even simple things like being able to walk. And finally, think about having a really, really big chicken at your next holiday meal. That'll show them who's boss.



My Wife and Times by Daniel Will HarrisIf you would like to read more fabulous stories such as Moms Online, you need Daniel Will Harris’s My Wife and Times. The 148 page book contains stories that are conveniently short, perfect for bedtime reading, or between airport friskings. Price: $15 postpaid and is available for purchase online at or on



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