Dead dog on the highway
Median cats are growling at me
I turn my lights on brighter
Im counting through the night ride
And its one more life for the taker
Chickenman chickenman
One more song for the maker
Chickenman chickenman
This story reminds me of something I’ve meant to blog about for ages.
A Wild Wings ’n Things store owner in this Teller County city is fighting city hall over Chicken Man, an employee in a costume, and her right to have him stand along U.S. Highway 24.
The city told her to bring him inside. She refuses.
It’s a story that has ruffled a lot of feathers in Woodland Park. It has become a focal point in a community debate about how far local government should go to enforce sign laws and about how much this rapidly growing mountain town should try to cling to its rustic charm.
These days, Chicken Man waves an American flag instead of a sign enticing drivers with wings and beer.
“I’m an American. I live in the United States of America. That’s why he’s carrying the flag,” owner Lisa Branden said Wednesday.
Having Chicken Man along the highway violates sign laws designed to maintain the town’s “mountain grandeur,” city manager David Buttery said.
At stake, Branden said, is the survival of her business and the jobs of two employees who dress as Chicken Man.
On our way to work everyday, we drive through an industrial section of South Seattle. There are all manner of companies- painting, plumbing, construction- there’s even a roofing company. This is where we see the Chickenman. Some days, he’s the Gingerbread Man from ‘Shrek’. Other days he’s a giant ape or a ‘Nacho Libre’ -esque wrestler. He stands on the corner with a sign advertising this roofing business, waving at cars. He stands out there even if it’s cold, raining, or snowing. He never fails to wave.
After seeing him daily, I’ve begun waving when I see him. On the days where he’s not out there, I wonder if he’s alright.
Bayou and I speculate that he’s an injured worker, and this is how they are keeping him on the payroll and insured. Or perhaps he’s an illegal immigrant. We don’t know. But we do know that we miss seeing him when we drive by, and we give him silent kudos for standing out there almost every day. It’s a thankless job, he’s no doubt had stuff thrown at him, been cursed, and had sore feet for weeks. But he’s out there anyway.
Here’s to you, Chickenman.