THE COYOTES WHO SOMETIMES HANG OUT IN THE WOODS NEAR FRANK STELLGARD'S HOME TALK TO HIM ABOUT THEIR PREFERENCE IN BEER

By

Russell Bradbury-Carlin

Hey, Frank. Wake-up.  It's us. You know, the coyotes that hang out in the woods behind your house.  Don't panic, we know you're a bit drunk, and this could easily be a beer-induced dream.  Or, it could be real.  We also know that you think we sound like a group of frat boys laughing around a keg when we're carousing near your home.  Well, hey, we are "wild" animals, aren't we?  Truth be told, that drunken frat-boy thing is closer to the truth than you would think.  You see, the reason that we are increasingly being seen in suburbs and towns is not because people have been cutting down forests to build more homes and malls.  Nope, it's because of beer.  That's right.  We love the stuff!  We can't get enough of it. Guinness, Sam Adams, Corona, even Miller.  All it took was a taste from half-filled cups left at keggers in the woods, and now we can't get enough. 

Let me tell you why we are here, Frank.  It's because we understand your "situation".  We've seen a lot of mid-life crisis stuff before – though not personally, of course.  Believe it or not, coyotes, while generally a bunch of beer-gulping carnivorous animals, are also quite wise and perceptive.  This is why we came to you tonight and are whispering in your window.  Initially, we came here because we caught scent of the empties from the two six-packs you polished off tonight. (Clearly you are quite the lightweight since it took only six beers for you to start screaming at the lawn that you are sick-and-tired of mowing it every few days.  I wonder what Dave's Paving will think about that message you left for them, telling them to be at your house at 8 A.M. sharp or you'd come down there and show them what's what.  It's a good thing your wife and kids are away for the weekend. Wouldn't have wanted them to see you in such a state).

Well, initially, we were disappointed that you not only drank both six-packs, but also licked out the inside of the bottles, too.  We were about to run off to the apartment complex a few blocks over where some college kids are spending the summer (last week they were drunk enough to think we were neighborhood dogs and gave us beer in dog-food bowls.  It was Bud, but we long-ago decided that when it comes to free beer, we aren't going to be choosey).   Anyway, we decided to hang out here for a bit and help you with your dilemma.  I think we have something important to impart to you.

But before I "impart", let me explain something.  You seem like a pretty smart guy, what with the glasses and the Prius in the driveway.  Perhaps, then, you've heard some Native American lore – maybe in a movie or on TV.  There is this legend of the Coyote-Trickster.  Yes, you see, we have various myths and legends attached to us. In other words, we carry some serious mojo!  To put it simply, some Native American tribes think our spirits come to them and speak the truth about something.  If a coyote comes to you in a dream, or in your case a drunken stupor that doesn't really pass for anything close to true sleep, then you should listen.  Of course, the "tricky" thing is, we are "the trickster", so what we say may actually be true, or it could be a trick.

But don't worry about that now; we'll let you sort that out when you are awake and sober in the morning.

Anyway, we know what's going on in your psyche, man.  You're in your forties.  You have a wife and two kids.  You have way too much debt.   Your wardrobe went from city-slick to country-bumpkin.  You have a house with two more bedrooms than you really need and a too big lawn.  Your kids even found your old collection of Fantastic Four comics and colored all over them with markers.  You feel you've lost something.  And, you're freaked.

We also know that some nights you've heard us baying out in the moonlight while you've tried to sleep.  You've heard us and thought we sound like the previously mentioned frat-guys.  And, instead of thinking of that analogy and laughing it off, you feel jealous.  You remember all of those keggers in the woods with your buddies.  You remember drinking to excess (like tonight, without all of the psychotic yelling at the lawn).  You remember those nights of slobbery groping with girls in the darkened woods or in the backseat of your car.  And now that your life is so staid and predictable, you find you miss that stuff.

We get it.  We love our lifestyle, too!  Sleep all day, get up in the late afternoon, rummage for some grub (or grubs) and then hit the streets (or woods) and look for fun – in our case, more food and beer.  We're always surrounded by a group of female coyotes, barking and flirting with us.  It's pretty damn awesome. 

But you know what, Frank?  You can join us.  Sure, just for one night.  The wife and kids are with her mother.  We're alone.  No one will know.  We could use some new blood.  So go for it, let's go romping!

That's it, Frank. Get out of bed.  We know the ground is spinning a bit, but ignore it. You'll get your bearings in a few minutes.  No, don't puke, hold it back. There, that's better. 

Now, of course, you can't go coyote-romping in your sweat-pants and t-shirt.  No way.  You need to get naked. Connect with that inner-wild animal.  That's it, throw away those symbols of conformity.  Let yourself roam free.  I know it's a bit cool out, but after running around on all fours for an hour or two, you'll warm up and be glad that you're stark-naked.  Oh, what's that?  Of course you need to run on all fours. You're a coyote now, damnit.   Come on, Frank, time to think outside the box.  That's it.  Now try running around in a circle. Look out for that floor-lamp…whoops.  Don't worry about it, just avoid the glass.  Okay, now let's hear you bay. Let's hear you cry out like a freakin' wild coyote.  Don't worry about the neighbors, they're sound asleep.  Go for it!  Okay…well, perhaps we can work on that.

Are you ready to come out and hit the wild nightlife?  No, don't go through the window.  You should go out the door, so you don't break anything else.  Maybe go out through the kitchen door.  We'll meet you on the back patio.  We've still got three hours until dawn. Lots of fun and frolicking to be had.  We're waiting…

Oh, by the way, Frank, can you grab that other six-pack in your fridge on the way out?  Thanks, man.