Lately I’ve heard the expression “eat crow” quite a bit in reference to several different issues.  In this commentary, the issues are not that relevant but the crow is. So I was wondering where the expression “eat crow” came from because I’ve never known anyone who literally had tasted this bird.

And if we’re going to throw words around so fluently, then I think we should know from whence came the phraseology.

My uncle once told me how to cook crow. He said to put the plucked bird in a washpot at about dawn. Throw a galvanized lug bolt into the pot with the crow. Along about 5 p.m., you should be able to stick the lug bolt with a fork and the crow would be done.

Now to the point based on a story that once appeared in The Atlanta Constitution: During an armistice toward the end of the War of 1812, an American soldier out hunting crossed the Niagara River past British lines. Finding no better game, he shot a crow, but a British officer heard the shot and surprised him. The Britisher tricked the Yankee out of the rifle with which he shot so well. He then turned the gun on the American, demanding that he take a bite out of the crow he had shot as a punishment for violating British territory. The American complied, but when the officer returned his weapon and told him to leave, he covered the Englishman and forced him to eat the rest of the crow.

In essence it means to be forced to do something extremely disagreeable.

Now prior to 1812, I have no idea what expression they might have used nor do I know if this expression is international. There may be some place on earth where one would “eat lizard.”

 I also read in a survival manual once that crow is digestible and can be made somewhat tasty with enough hot sauce. But then so would road kill. I’ve  always been fascinated by “survival in the wild” stories, and I’ve learned some of those skills along the way just in case I survive a plane crash on an island that doesn’t have a Holiday Inn or a Dollar General Store. I’m pretty sure there are still some islands without a Holiday Inn, but I think Dollar General may have us covered.

Basically, survival training employs the concept of “mind over matter” and one has to think in terms of protein only. In other words, if you can get past the smell and the image of what the creature just crawled out of, you’ve got dinner.

Along those lines there’s the story of a young Cajun boy walking along a backroad carrying his rifle and a dead chicken hawk slung over his shoulder. A motorist, not from that area, stops and asks:

“Hey boy, whatcha got there?”

The boy replied, “Hawk.”

The motorist said, “Whatcha gonna do with it?’

“Eat it,” the boy said. “Going to make gumbo.”

The motorist asked him, “So what does hawk taste like?”

The boy quickly responded, “About like owl.”

I would imagine that in the metaphorical sense, we’ve all had a taste of crow at one time or another. At this very moment and in the midst of our government shutdown, I do wish that Congress and our president were all sitting down to some “raven under glass.” Forgive me for getting political for a moment. Sometimes I just can’t help myself.

My wife and I feed birds in our backyard and quite often there will be a “murder” of crows out there. Yes, you call a bunch of crows a “murder.” I watch them strut around with such arrogance. They will often pick up several pieces of bread and get their mouths really full before they fly off to Washington …. Oops! Forgive me again, I mean to their roosts.

(Email: dwain.walden@gaflnews.com)