This Will Cause a Kerfuffle

I couldn't have been more flabbergasted if Bigfoot had lumbered up and asked me to be his partner on "Dancing With the Stars."

Listen up, Sonny. I know I haven’t gone berserk because my head is still right here on my shoulders, thankfully with my neck in between.

You will probably dismiss this tale as a lot of malarkey and shrug me off as one of “those” people I once called knuckleheads and nincompoops. I want you to promise me your lips are sealed. If this gets out, I'll be branded as an old fuddy-duddy who is senile, however, I’m going to tell you, despite knowing that you will be as totally discombobulated by this event as I am.

Okay, here goes. I saw one of those thingamajigs they call an unidentified flying object. That’s right. A UFO. You think I'm making this up? You know me better than that. Sure as hens lay eggs, your granny saw it, and I haven't told a lie since Moby Dick was a minnow.

Now hold on, Sonny, before you tell me to skedaddle. What I saw was definitely NOT one of those Chinese weather balloons which are up to much worse than skullduggery. What numbskull has been hoodwinked into thinking those things are innocently floating willy-nilly around U.S. airspace? Balderdash!

Actually, UFO sightings are becoming common lately. People see all sorts of weird things in the skies, especially now that marijuana is legal in some states. And there’s little to no brouhaha from the news media about it. Reporters only put the kibosh on real news about incriminating laptops from posh people who get caught in wicked shenanigans.

So, here’s the deal about UFOs. Is there life on other planets? Isn’t that the question behind Star-Trek explorers who venture to boldly go where no man has ever gone before? Sadly, the Ladies’ Room no longer qualifies as a place where no man has gone before. I saw a “man” come out of one just a week ago. No doubt he was confuzzled about his identity on that day.  

Okay, I’ve lollygagged long enough. Hold your horses. I’ll describe the durned thing. Once upon a time--because it still seems like a fairy tale--I stepped out to pick up the morning newspaper. I had already drunk my morning coffee and was as alert as a cat watching a bird. The neighborhood was as calm as a sleeping dog. I glanced up and there it was suspended just a few feet above the trees in my front yard, as silent as the silvery moon.

But it was not the moon.

The jogger and the paper boy weren’t paying any attention. A ragamuffin boy rode his bicycle away without an upward glance. Nobody shouted in horror, “LOOK! THERE’S AN ALIEN CRAFT!” All was as calm as though nothing out of the ordinary was present. I had to blink my eyes and stare at it again to be certain, and it was there all right.

Sure, I can tell you exactly what it looked like. You know very well my memory is sharper than every nail in the hardware store. It had the appearance of a cylindrical water tower and was about the same size. That alone tells you I'm not making this up. Why dream up an aerial object that could not possibly fly? It had no lights, no windows, and no big-eyed dwarves inviting me aboard for a free medical exam--the usual rigmarole reported by “contactees" I later read about.

The most peculiar thing about the UFO was this: it looked like static, like the snowy screen of an old 1950s TV set. If you don’t remember those, you’ll think I’ve been around since Grandpa burned down the outhouse. Actually, I have been, but that doesn't mean I'm wacky.

At first, I was gobsmacked. Then I realized what a treasure that photo would make! I ran to locate my camera but by the time I got back, fiddlesticks! The thing had vanished.

This was even worse than if my hair had turned green. I could have sold that photo to the--whatsitsname? The Wacky World News for a fortune.

I decided to do some research on mysterious aerial phenomena.

Yes, I know how to use Google. You taught me when you were just a little tyke. I discovered that unidentified objects in the heavens have been reported as early as 1450 B.C. That's way before Jules Verne and H. G. Wells ever thought about space travel.

I traveled to Dixon, Illinois to hear therapist Dr. Karyn K. Mitchell, Ph. D. She counsels people who believe they’ve been abducted by aliens. I did not go for her services, even though I admit I can be a "space case" at times. Like the time the cat left its paw prints in the middle of my pumpkin pie sitting on the counter. Was I tempted to just scrape off the top layer? You bet. Did I? My lips are sealed.

The renowned Dr. Mitchell announced that she is herself an abductee. Really? She described many extra-terrestrial races visiting Earth, some of which have been impregnating Earth women. Their hybrid offspring are living among us. She thinks Bigfoot may be one of these, or else he’s a grunt sent to gather samples from mutilated cows. That kinda makes sense. I guess Bigfoot has to get his beef from somewhere. I've never seen him order a burger at a drive-in.

Dr. Mitchell’s entire subject was just so bizarre, so alien (a bad pun?). One giant step beyond my comfort zone.

Driving home from that meeting through the night blacker than the space of Hades, I simply could not dismiss the thing I saw. There has to be an explanation.

I pondered and researched and read accounts. I doubt I've met any hybrids born of alien-impregnated women. Although some politicians I do wonder about.

Seems there are many mysteries, which we may never explain. I'm satisfied that I'm not an abductee. I'm keeping my head on my shoulders and my feet on the ground. And I'm definitely not pregnant. At my age? It would take more than an alien implant. Although if the guy was handsome . . . Never mind. I'm not that desperate.

If Bigfoot ever lumbers up to ask if he can borrow my cell and phone home, I’ll give him a whack on the head and send him dancing to the stars.

And from that moment, I promise you, my lips are sealed.