WHAT THE CLUCK? >>>

If you told me at the beginning of my college career that I would wander the streets of downtown Tacoma wearing a chicken suit for class credit, I would have called you cuckoo. Last Thursday, I donned the feathers and beak.

Grad school here I come.

As I clucked and flapped my wings, a group of University of Washington Tacoma students stared me down. Eventually, one of the girls approached.

"Why are you wearing a chicken suit?" she asked.

The first thought that popped this happy intern's head was, "Why are you not wearing a chicken suit?"

My Weekly Volcano intern-in-crime Amy Skinner did most of the talking. She explained we're out promoting the Volcano's Green issue, and to cluck-up Tacoma Restaurant Week, which the Volcano created.

Happily, everyone knew of the world-renowned Volcano. Therefore, our job was to entertain.

As time passed, and I became more and more reassured in the anonymity of the chicken suit, my interactions became less and less subtle. I stopped acting and I became the crazy floppy headed chicken dancing around passing out the green and good word.

As with most things in life, some liked me and some didn't. Reactions to my appearance ranged from running away in fright and running up for a hug and the newspaper.

We ended the day on a high note talking with a funny Australian doctor in town for a few days. Dr. Aussie enjoyed Tacoma almost as much as we do.