Alfred Hitchcock Slept Here

When I stepped out on my way to the radio station this morning, I could almost see Tippi Hedren and cast on the street, running in sheer panic. There were birds all around me. I heard a crow or two high up in a tree; lower down, a woodpecker; hither and yon, whatever other birds happened to be in the neighborhood.

Feathered bipeds. As opposed to us, unfeathered bipeds.

Full-fledged birds, from “fledge,” to do with feathers. Actually, if you go back far enough, “fledge” means “capable of flying,” but later “to cover with feathers.” I rather suspect this does not include the Revolutionary-era practice of tarring and feathering people who had fallen into disfavor.

Once you are a full-fledged something, you have all your feathers for the job and can fly on your own. If you are a fledgling whatever, you are still being trained. If you are Alfred Hitchcock, you can take a flock of these sweet little chirpers and scare the kee-rap out of everybody in some small town.

Everybody has a story.
Patrick Butler went to his reward last week. Born in Ireland, he lived in Syracuse NY, but as owner of the Butler Academy of Traditional Irish Dancing, had one of his studios here in Wilkes-Barre. He was the North American Irish Dance Champion, who came from a family of Irish dance champions. He performed before President John Kennedy, Carmel Quinn [remember her?] and the Queen of England.