A Mystery Resolved: Looney Tunes Revisited!!!


First, an apology. The last episode of the epic, Kevin The Loon, was intended to be the final installment. Now, here I am, back with Kevin in the Mill Pond. Why have I rescinded on my promise? Because many of my most loyal readers have informed me of sleepless nights. They are unsettled by my explanation of solitary Kevin content to be alone on the Mill Pond. And, last night, I had a dream that a loon was frantically rising out of the water, shaking and wailing–––as if to attract my attention. I awoke in a sweat and realized I needed to revisit the story of Kevin The Loon.

The crucial question is whether Kevin was really imprisoned on the Mill Pond, unable to fly out. This is a disturbing subject because, on one hand, I had written that loons needed a long runway before take off, and the Mill Pond was too small. Therefore, Kevin was trapped. On the other hand, the owner of the Hub bicycle shop located on the shore of the Mill Pond had witnessed Kevin coming and going. Which story is correct? I wanted to believe that Kevin had free will and could come and go as he pleased. Who among us wants to feel cornered, whether in a Mill Pond or in any other predicament? We desire choice and the ability to control our destiny.

Well, extensive research in loonology has convinced me that my initial supposition was correct. Kevin cannot fly out of the Mill Pond. There is insufficient space. Although I knew this to be the case, I wanted to believe otherwise. The truth be damned! (A perfectly legitimate statement, since there is a dam at the end of the Mill Pond).

Then, this morning, I attended a town meeting at which the case of Kevin was brought up for consideration. Of course, like all town meetings, this was a serious forum and the discussion took on scientific ramifications with reports from experts who confirmed the fact that Kevin was unable to fly from the pond. So how to resolve the contradiction: He could leave? He couldn’t leave?

Suddenly, a flash of inspiration. Sitting at the meeting in Town Hall, I mused on all the facts. Who said they saw Kevin leave the Mill Pond? The owner of the Hub. And what is the Hub? A bicycle shop. Therefore, my rather keen investigative work led me to the following conclusion: Kevin cannot depart by air but Kevin leaves and returns riding a bicycle, which is not only good publicity for the Hub but also resolves the apparent contradiction. So there is Kevin, wings spread to catch the wind, pedaling furiously on a bright blue Trek bicycle.

The one remaining piece of the puzzle concerns whether Kevin rode a boy’s bike or a girl’s bike. If the latter, then perhaps Kevin should really be called Kevina. Hopefully, you, the patient reader, will not be burdened with an additional story on nomenclature.

Incidentally, I am once again sleeping well. Kevin has taught me there is always more than one way to escape what might be an onerous situation. And what is that way? Buy a bike.

Well, that is enough. Like the wheels of a bike, I have spoken, although I may be going in circles.

Brant Lake

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