sounds of summer

I am frequently reminded that summer is fast approaching by the din of ducks dying the most horrible death imaginable.

Mind you, I'm not talking about their actual demise, but the sound of moribund mallards. If one were to deconstruct the cacaphony, the individual parts would incorporate aspects of quack, whack, beep, yack, and mack.

It turns out that mallards are not being maltreated. It is the whistle of the ice cream man. Go figure. It almost makes me want to sponsor a contest with the challenge to list one reason why the dying duck whistle is a good business strategy. Just one reason. One.