Eulogy For a Fly - Part One
OK Let’s get started, huh?
Well, ladies and gentlemen, on this sad occasion, it is my painful duty to welcome
You all to the farewell meeting convened in honour of our beloved Uncle Hector.
We gather together on this heap of cat-crap behind the restaurant for two reasons.
First, it is a familiar place full of pleasant memories for all of us, but second,
And more important, it is Uncle Hector’s own favourite place for passing away
A pleasant hour two, buzzing excitedly on a hot summer’s afternoon.
You all know, I think, that Hector was born into a family of 115 flies
From his mother’s bluebottle fecundity. Raised in poverty, no education to speak of,
The young Hector managed to learn the lessons of life the hard way,
Narrowly missing fly-swatters in kitchens, sprays in toilets, sticky-paper in bedrooms,
And many other potentially fatal ends. When he was seven months old, he married
The beautiful Mary-Belle, and they had a lovely family of 8,236 children,
Many of whom are the spitting image of Hector himself. Uncle Hector is survived
By Mary-Belle and 5,019 of their children. We are all heartbroken as we realize
That the poor kids are still asking their mum,
“Why is daddy so late coming home? When will he be back?”
You don’t need me to remind you of the sudden and untimely end of this fine fly,
And yet there are youngsters among us today who would do well to be reminded
Of the pitfalls awaiting the careless adolescent fly. Yes, ladies and gentlemen,
Uncle Hector, despite months of expert practice at avoidance techniques,
Allowed his attention to wander too casually and he accidentally stepped onto flypaper.
What a demeaning end for a leader of such stature.
Hector blazed a trail a mile wide
Through the old-fashioned traditions of bluebottles.
No mere dog-crap afternoons for him….no !
Hector didn’t hesitate to go for the unusual. The half-rotten kiwi fruit.
The over-cooked - nay, burnt - shashlik at the beach or barbecue site.
His favourites were the day-old vomit from dogs with food-poisoning,
And the two-week-old decayed carcass of a mouse or rabbit.
Youngsters listening to me now would do well to attempt even half of the stuff
Practised by our beloved uncle. Indeed we would all do well to try
And emulate the deeds of such a fly – a shining example to us all.
(continued in PART TWO )
Copyright © Sidney Beck | Year Posted 2011
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