a newspaper man adjusts his pen

Monday, September 30, 2013

Smile, these rubber duckies could be yours someday

A family-type reunion photograph of rubber ducks that keep arriving at my house and desk at work. (Scott Beveridge photo)

By Scott Beveridge

People keep asking me why I'm obsessed with the overabundance of rubber duckies that keep piling up around my house and desk at work.

The simple answer is, I'm not any more of a fan of this bathtub toy than anyone else with a fondness for silliness.

I'm just blessed with great friends who like to give me things that make us smile.

And, the duck does that with little or no effort of its own.

This duck thing in my life started after I purchased three of my newsroom colleagues at the Observer-Reporter little rubber ducks dressed as Santa Claus about six years ago just because the gifts were cute and cheap.

Later, I added a few more of the rubber waterbirds to my personal collection and parked them, appropriately, atop the tank to the toilet in my bathroom and posted a photo of the display on Facebook.
The Brett Favre duck

Somewhere along the line a friend, Amanda Gillooly of Pittsburgh, began to purchase me miniature duckies from bubblegum-type machines, including one pretending to be former NFL quarterback Brett Lorenzo Favre and bearing his jersey No. 4 on its breast.

She gave it to me over beers with other friends. Fellow journalist Mike Jones drowned the quacky little Favre in one of several beers on our table and he snapped a photo of it, which ended up on Facebook, too, and probably on Twitter, as well.

The lesson learned here is, be careful of what one shares on social media because those two photos soon unleashed an avalanche of rubber duckies in my direction.

For my birthday this year, I returned home to find my house had been rubber-ducked in my absence by other great friends, Susan Meadway and her sister, Marilyn Bradley. They had been stocking up every rubber duck they could find over the past year at thrift shops to carry out the hilarious prank.

By then, I learned the rubber duck is sold in more shapes and forms than I had ever imagined, ranging from sheep to psychedelic peace-loving hippies.

So there you have it.

It's not about the duck, but everything about the great fortune of havin friendships with those who don't mind behaving once in awhile like kids with big fat smiles on their faces.

And, just so you know, my hefty bag of these things is one day going to be regifted when it's least expected.    

No comments: