I've got a soft spot - I say, I've got a soft spot for ol' Foghorn. He is, at least in his own estimation, a bottomless font of homespun wisdom, collected over a lifetime of barnyard experience, wisdom he is never shy to share with anyone. Like most roosters, he certainly considers himself cock of the walk, big man on the agrarian campus, a blustering ego strutting from one prank to the next. He's showing off for the hens, bullying the dog, and engaging in a strange non-rivalry with young, ambitious hatchling hawk Henery, and always, always talking. His affect is that of a southern rancher, a good ole boy, a cornpone Confucius or a feathered Lyndon Johnson.
My favorite moments of Foghorn's short cartoons came when he attempted to tutor Egghead Jr., the scholarly young chick of Miss Prissy, his most frequent hen of interest. There's scant common denominator between the bookish Egghead and the voluble, larger-than-life Foghorn, and their time together usually resulted in a dismissive "go away son, you bother me" from the elder rooster. It's a dynamic that I saw from the youngster's perspective with my own father, and as I've aged I've become far less Egghead and far more Foghorn. As the bird himself once said, "Okay, I'll shut up. I'm not one that has to keep talkin'. Some fellas just have to keep their mouths flappin', but not me! I was brought up right, my pa used to tell me "shut up" and I'd shut up!"