Chicken Little, noted alarmist and sesquipedalian, awoke one morning to find that the sky had fallen on his island.
C.L., as he was fondly called by his fine-feathered friends and fellow flocker members of the local C.A.V.E. chapter (Citizens Against Virtually Everything), was shocked, shocked (!) to discover his favorite watering street was now a wide boulevard, and his cherished wading pot-holes were gone.
“Alas”, said C.L., “No more floods.” Not only that, but there were bright flashing yellow lights. “Oh, no, my island has been taken over by Nascar!”
Even though C.L. pays a very small village tax bill, he counts every cent. He worried about Islanders spending money to clean up his cherished cesspools; he fretted about another bridge to his island domain; he stewed about “those people” (the usual suspects) invading his island, including some southeastern Florida day visitors who don’t even have visas to enter his private nesting place.
C.L. was naturally opposed to everything else he saw: Jobs for people who had none; a shocking proposal to install solar energy on his island; a plan to celebrate veterans with a park for the people, but would ruin the very place where he loved to do what chickens do on vacant lots; and more — much more.
So, C.L. did what C.L. always does. He wrote yet another alarming diatribe to his local newspaper.
As usual, C.L. in his continuing anxiety overlooked the facts: Of course the flashing yellow lights make the street safe; of course more jobs help the poorer and bolster the Island’s tax base; of course solar energy reduces everyone’s electric costs; of course a new bridge (without a toll) is safer; of course the existing high school is very good and our Island’s students have graduated and gone on to fine universities and graduate schools.
The moral of the story? Don’t believe every Little Chicken you hear.