Frick Park Chicken Chuck

Pittsburgh

March 2021

I bought a farm fresh rotisserie chicken at our local grocery store.  Easy, tasty, just the slightest hint of nutrition.

I ate some for dinner and later that night felt a bit queasy, so I went to bed.  The next morning I gave it the carcass test:  I took off the lid of the package and smelled the bird.

Usually these chickens are finger lickin’ good, but this one?  Yuck.  Eww.  Nope, not this time.  This is a sick chick.

I have a hard time throwing away food.  Tossing even bad food seems to be a waste.  So Lisa and I carried the not-so-farm-fresh rotisserie chicken over to the park, Frick Park.

Standing on a bluff, overlooking a gully that is home to countless critters (worms, squirrels, non-chicken birds, deer) we tossed the not-so-farm-fresh rotisserie chicken right over the edge into the gully.  We flicked the chick.

We flicked the chick in Frick.  It is the Frick Park Chicken Chuck.

Then I got a tick.  It didn’t stick.

Lisa says, “No harm, no fowl.”

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