Along the Way

Long the Way And Here He Is, the Miscast Star of Our Show...

Many of us received our early education in the science of zology while riveted to television sets on Saturday mornings, watching the parade of animal cartoon stars.

My favorite was the roadrunner. We all formed our impression of the roadrunner as an elusive creature, forever fleeing a canine predator. Although the roadrunner is full of personality, the bird was miscast. The roadrunner's image on the silver screen is vastly different from the “real” roadrunner.

Instead I see the roadrunner as the predator not the prey. They are chasers, not chasees. I'm sure roadrunners do get chased and even caught. However, after observing and photographing them for some years, I never saw one being chased by coyotes or anything else.

Instead I saw roadrunners doing all the pursuing. They love chasing lizards. Unlike the cartoon coyote, roadrunners always seem to get their man, or at least their lizard. I also saw them subduing pocket gophers, other rodents, and even rattlesnakes. I have heard of them lying in wait for hummingbirds attracted to feeders. Roadrunners are more appropriately cast as avian terminators than eternally fleeing prey.

And those beep-beep sounds the roadrunner makes in cartoons also stretch reality. Car horns say beep-beep; roadrunners make a dovelike cooing sound. They also make a rattling sound by rapidly clacking their beaks. Hollywood filmmakers apparently found the roadrunners' vocal abilities unbecoming to a screen star, and thus the deception began.

As with most big stars, the roadrunner has been courted by the commercial world. Think of all the companies in the Southwest that have adopted the roadrunner moniker. In Tucson alone, roadrunners sell everything from swimming pools to limousines.

Once again I believe the poor birds are out of their ele-ment. Instead of avian huck-sters, roadrunners are great philanthropists. Of all the booty I watched roadrunners take, most was selflessly donated to their mates or their young. Why then, out of all the Saturday morning fauna, were roadrunners chosen for commercialization? Why not “Pepe le Pue Perfume?” Even in Australia, I have never seen “Tasmanian Devil Rent-a-Car.” Strangely, the roadrunner's sunbathing was never picked up by the film moguls. Each morning roadrunners greet the warming sun. They spread their feathers, exposing their dark skin, and soak up the warmth. Why, then, didn't the Saturday morning features have roadrun-ners wearing sunglasses reclining on lawn chairs, surrounded by bikini-clad beauties?

At least Hollywood was right about the roadrunner's speed. It is the fastest bird in North America on the ground — capable of speeds of more than 25 miles per hour. However, once again Hollywood overlooked an important fact: roadrunners can fly. I guess that reality would have made things all the more hopeless for the already outmatched coyote.

I theorize that from the disparity between the real roadrunners and their screen image, these poor birds should be suffering severe identity crises. But, even though they belong to the cuckoo family, I have never seen a roadrunner that was particularly confused. Much to the contrary, they all seem quite well adjusted and able to cope with the rigors of desert life.

Perhaps they know that none of the big-time stars are really what they are made out to be in the movies.