The Phrase “Naked As A Jay Bird” – An Explanation Of It’s Origin 

    In the past Lorraine and I have always tried to be supportive of our two daughter’s inquiring minds. Usually by telling them to look up the answers to their questions, but on occasion we knew that the explanation was not available in the then-available reference materials. In those instances, we would have to step in and render a little help. The following dissertation was the result of once such cry for help. 

    Today we got a card from Sonia and Bruce in which they asked, “where did the expression ‘naked as a jay bird’ come from?” I’m not sure why they’re asking me? But it so happens that I was the one who did the original research on that very expression for Encyclopedia Britmaniacal. I doubt that the kids were even aware of this and Lorraine was not either. I think she was a little put out to learn something new about me after all these years, because she made some snide remark that maybe even I was not aware of having done this thing. 
    Many people are under the assumption that the expression refers to an actual jay bird, like a blue jay or something. Such is not the case. My history of the development of that phrase is as follows: Phineas J. Bird was born in 1873, and as he grew older, became a dabbler in anything that smacked of science.
    When in his late twenties, he was in Ancho, New Mexico, seeking an old Indian medicine man. This Indian was said to be extremely old. “How old?” I hear you asking. Well, I’ll tell you. This guy was so old he could remember when the Dead Sea was only sick. 
    Phineas had heard that this medicine man had a concoction which would ward off the common cold. After buying the formula for one-hundred dollars, (this being the 47th time the old Indian had sold the exclusive rights to this remedy), Phineas started his pharmaceutical company. He took whiskey and watered it down by 80 percent, then put in a little of the formula. It sold like hot cakes. Phineas traveled most of the West selling his brew, and only occasionally getting into trouble. 
    Twice when he tried to use his “medicine” to pay for services rendered in houses of ill repute, and three times when he ran afoul of the OBATUBs, (Old Broads Against the Use of Booze). Two of those times he had his wagon load of wares confiscated, which the OBATUBs then used for experimental purposes. Their response to questions from the media was “You can’t fight what you don’t understand.”
    Phineas made his headquarters in Denver, where because of his increasing affluence he became one of the more outstanding citizens of that city. He was now making his own whisky to go in his medicine, and soon the whiskey business was doing better than the pharmaceutical business, and besides, the whiskey trade, for some reason didn’t seem to agitate the old ladies near as much. His success in the distilling game prompted Phineas to branch out into the brewing of fine beer. Or at least it was supposed to be fine. He figured that by using clear, cold, Rocky Mountain water in his brew he could get the jump on the competition. 
    Thus, came the big day for the unveiling of the first batch of brew. Phineas had called a press conference at Denver’s most prestigious saloon, the Silver Dollar on Colorado Street. The reporters were there and the place was packed. Phineas was standing up on the bar holding aloft a bottle of his new brew and making a fine speech. 
    Phineas had been waving the bottle around and evidently the agitation, along with the fact that his brew master didn’t know what he was doing yet, culminated in the bottle of brew exploding with a terrific roar. It blew the windows out of the saloon, laid horizontal most of the people close to Phineas, and caused considerable damage to the chandeliers and the back-bar area. 
    As the dust cleared and the people scrambled to their feet, they saw Phineas still standing on the bar, still holding the neck of the beer bottle, and wearing only his shoes. It took several minutes for Phineas to realize just what had happened and the fact that he was as naked as a new-born bird. By this time the crowd was howling with laughter, not only with relief at finding themselves alive, but at the sight of Phineas. 
    When this all became clear to Phineas he jumped down from the bar and bolted out the front door, right into the midst of a large crowd that was descending on the Silver Dollar to see what had happened. Phineas broke through the crowd and went loping down the street; arms, legs, and, well never mind, flapping as he ran around the corner, and into a laundry. 
    As he was hurriedly leaving the bar, Phineas was heard to say in a sarcastic sort of undertone, “If I survive this triumph I will make something of this brew yet.” A reporter in the back of the crowd, who had a great mop of bushy white hair, took the big cigar out of his mouth, thought for a minute, then jotted down in his journal, “If I survive this triumph,” while muttering to himself, “I like that, maybe I can use it someday.” 
   It was only a few days before everyone realized that aside from the momentary humiliation of the press conference, and the subsequent dash down the street in his birthday suit, Phineas had scored another marketing triumph. It seems that the notoriety of the occasion prompted everyone to try his beer, and they liked it. When this all became clear, Phineas’s little British wife, whose East London cockney accent was more prominent when she was excited, told him, “Cor blimey, but t’was a lucky break ya’ad today, now wasn’t it, dearie?” And right then Phineas had the name for his new brew. Think about it. 
    As time went on and the story got told and retold the expression of “naked as a Phineas J. Bird” started to emerge. But being sort of a clumsy phrase it soon was shortened to “naked as a J Bird,” and later, when written, the J was spelled Jay. And there you have it, boys and girls. If you’re in doubt as to the veracity of this dubious narrative, instead of dispersing dispassionate disparagement or getting disputatious, just look it up.