🌻 THE CLIVE SAGA — CHAPTER 10

Aug 30

3 min read

🐦 Clive’s Corner: The Hummingbird Standoff

(Clive sitting proud in his chair, poncho draped, hat tipped low, watching the Hummingbird Carpet blaze red under the late‑summer sun.)

Opening Scene

After three days cooped up in the shop, Clive finally got his wish — a seat outside among the fresh air and the fiery blooms of the Hummingbird Carpet. The rain had coaxed the flowers into full color, just in time for the migration.

“Kid,” he said, “it’s about darn time you let me out of that cramped place you call a shop.”

I told him the hummingbirds were fueling up for their long trip south.

“Good riddance,” he muttered.

That’s Clive for you — a skeleton with opinions.

Clive’s Complaint

“Those little beggars hover right in front of my face and stick that snout of theirs right against my perfect nose. Like just because they can fly, they’re some big deal.”

I asked what else was eating at him.

“Kid, you ever been in a saddle?”

I admitted not recently — and that horseback riding leaves a mark you don’t forget.

“Spoken like the city slicker you are,” he said, shaking his skull. “Takes skill and patience to get a horse to do what you want. Otherwise, you end up with a horseshoe‑shaped bruise where the sun don’t shine.”

The Frontier Negotiation

Clive doesn’t like to complain — or so he claims. But he had a list.

“Kid, if you get up early, bring me out here so I can enjoy this weather. Same goes when you leave for school.”

I told him I couldn’t leave him unattended; he’d end up insulting the neighborhood kids.

“They love me!”

I reminded him that not everyone appreciates a skeleton with a sharp tongue.

“Look, Kid, I did my time. Don’t start talking about the lock‑up.”

Then came the inevitable request:

“Kid, if you’d just get me a six‑shooter — a Colt .45, remember—”

I cut him off. “No guns, Clive.”

“Wouldn’t hurt a kid, Kid. Just scare ’em a bit.”

The AI Argument

When I mentioned I’d been writing about AI ethics, Clive perked up.

“For someone so worried about AI, you sure spend a lot of time with it.”

I explained that managing AI responsibly takes governments and everyday people alike.

“Well, Kid, you’re about as everyday as they come.”

Then he leaned back, grinning.

“You poked the big bear with that silly post. Big Tech don’t want rules. Won’t be long till the black SUVs start buzzing the shop.”

I told him to drop the conspiracy talk.

Snack Time Philosophy

Clive shifted gears, eyeing the bag of cheese crackers.

“Kid, what the heck are these little cracker things anyway?”

I told him they were baked cheese with rosemary.

“In my day, cheese was something you threw in the saddlebag with hard tack and jerky. Not little crackers.”

He paused.

“Now, I knew a girl named Rosemary—”

I stopped him right there.

“Kid, you can’t just change a man’s snack on a whim. At least you didn’t mess with my drink. Touch that, and there’ll be issues.”

Maker’s Note

Clive’s standoff with the hummingbirds turned into a full‑day debate about snacks, caffeine, and the state of modern technology. He’s proof that even skeletons need sunshine — and a little cheese to keep their spirits up.