Pardon the pun, but when I pressed the down button for one of the elevators in the Longworth House Office Building on Friday morning, the last thing I expected to find was a different kind of down. There were four people on the elevator, and the two men had their hands full of down, so to speak.
They invited me to get on the elevator, but I declined. I did acknowledge that I write a daily blog and asked permission to use their pictures.
If you haven’t yet connected the dots, feathers of a duck are referred to as down. The three trophy mounts held by the two guys were absoulutely beautiful. I could see that.
Other folks might have experienced difficulty processing their beauty. Would I want them sitting on my desk? Probably not, but that didn’t discount the fact that they represented art in the most colorful of fashion.
When I was a kid growing up, my mother often referred to me as Donald Duck. Because of that every time I heard the expression “dead duck”, it was somewhat alarming.
The phrase “dead duck” is an Americanism from the 1830s. It was originally politically slang referring to a person who had lost their influence or power. Consequently they were considered useless.
Seeing the three ducks in the elevator and discerning that they had either been on display or where going to be on display, I thought of some long-time friends.
The many works of art in their home are primary mounted trophy deer heads. Several years ago when they listed their home with a realtor to be sold, a potential buyer was traumatized when she entered the home.
She exited stage right screaming: “Get me out of here. This is a house of death.”
Perhaps, to each their own! My son and his kids would have loved the down collection.
All My Best!
Don
Carpe Diem 