Project Duck Butt Ring

Won Over By Reality

by Tim Bayer

WEBSTER, NY—(Weekly Hubris)—8/23/10—I entered the big-box hardware store because I was in need of a part in order to effect an urgent repair.

About 15 feet into the place, I was greeted by a friendly, helpful, unsuspecting associate who asked, “May I help you find something?”

At certain, unpredictable times I will do things or say things because it provides me with . . . amusement. This was one of those times. In response to the innocent question, I gave a matter-of-fact, truthful response: “Yes”, I said. “I need a butt ring for my duck”.

There was a moment of silence between me and the caught off-balance employee who, admirably, recovered immediately and shot back with a parroted, played-back, precise, and deadpan rendering of what he thought he’d just heard. “You. Need. A. Butt. Ring. For a duck.”

“That’s right,” I said, stifling my mirth. I then produced the butt ring-less duck for his edification.

“See,” I said, pointing to the back of the duck, “the butt ring broke off and I want to add a new ring so the duck may be re-attached to a keychain.”

It wasn’t clear to me if Mr. Helpful Hardware Man was catching on to the joke, or if he was just trying to be done with this odd customer so as to move on to another, less odd, duck, but he seemed to soften a bit. He took pity on me, and my little friend.

The back story here is that, last Christmas, Emily, my Significant Other, received a duck keychain from her brother. The duck widget attached to the key ring has a button on one side. When the button is pressed, a light shines from the duck’s mouth and a quacking sound is produced. Sometimes, when squished by objects in Emily’s purse, the muffled quacking may be heard by one and all. The light has been useful, and the intermittent, inadvertent quacking has been entertaining.

As a source of amusement on several occasions, Emily’s little mascot quickly became an endearing item that reminded me specifically of her. I used the quacking sound to create a custom ring tone for my cell phone and linked it to Emily’s phone number. When Emily calls me, my phone proudly announces: “It’s Emily! QUACK! QUACK! QUACK! QUACK! QUACK! QUACK! QUACK! QUACK!”  (Click here to listen.)

When the original, molded plastic “duck butt ring” broke, the amusing little trinket had to be repaired—which initiated Project Duck Butt Ring and, ultimately, led me towards the fasteners section of the hardware store.

The fasteners section did indeed have Duck Butt Rings, but they are mislabeled as “Screw Eyes—Small Zinc.”

Duck Butt Rings come in many sizes—should you or your mallard ever need one—but the smaller sizes are not sold individually: they come in packages of ten, presumably to repair an entire flock’s butts.

After purchasing a package and returning home, the repair was swift. Drill a small pilot hole and screw in the new Butt Ring.

Later that day, Project Duck Butt Ring was deemed a success, and the lighting, quacking duckling was reunited with Emily’s keys.