I spend a lot of time looking out the window and speculating about birds, as one does. There are these birds that I’m told are real dicks, Dick Birds, if you will. What they do is they wait for another, innocent bird to build a nest and then they lay their Dick Bird eggs in that nest and then take off, leaving the innocent birds to raise the Dick Bird Babies. Which causes problems in the innocent bird marriages, who you been sleeping with, etc. while the Dick Bird is just flying and laying with no responsibility or child support.
There are these other birds who I’m also not supposed to like, as they are Invasive. Illegal Immigrants, if you will. Some early settler brought them to New York City because he liked the look of them and now here they are, decades later, skanking up the place and eating all the food meant for the birds that came here legally.
What we’re supposed to do with Dick Bird and Illegal Bird when we see them is to open the window and kind of shoo them away, or shoot them, because we live in the county and that’s what we do with things we don’t like. I feel a lot of conflicted guilt around both of these birds because they don’t really know any better, and they’re just out there trying to survive like anyone else. And in the case of Illegal Bird, I mean, he was born here, he’s a citizen, a DREAMER, for Christ sake! You’re going to shoot him because his ancestors came here illegally (don’t get any ideas). But, you can’t just go around expecting other birds to raise your babies. So therein lies the conflict. And the guilt is because I just stare at the Dick Bird pecking at the suet and waiting for him to fly away.
Fly high, Dick Bird.
Dick Birds are black with a yellow beak and an iridescent blue head. Which brings me to my other thought about birds: their names. What kind of sexually repressed color blind Victorian dude came up with these names? So many tits. So many boobies. Are we in a strip club? And why is that a purple breasted whatsit? That is clearly red. That’s a scarlet doohicky? But but…where’s the red on this one? Ooohhh there’s one red feather under his right armpit? (wingpit?) A red-winged blackbird has a red stripe on his wing…not an entire red wing. The exaggeration…just…unreal. Simmer down there Horace.
Speaking of dicks, Hummingbirds are real little assholes. You wouldn’t expect that of something so little. Unless it was a wasp. Or whatever it is that causes syphilis. They are so tiny and precious, but so, so territorial. I get it. If I needed that many calories to survive I might have the same feeling. After feeling so, so happy that I got to eat so much without consequences. A hummingbird will barely get to alight on the feeder before another comes dive-bombing out of nowhere, scolding and chasing him away. Sometimes a third will join the fight. Suddenly no one will be at the feeder because this is why we can’t have nice things. A hummingbird will hang out in the tree and just monitor the feeder to make sure no one else can have it. Cute little assholes, they are. I’ve known a lot of boys like this.
I recently learned that cardinals symbolize loved ones who have passed on. This has to be so comforting. And, at the end of February when everything is bleak and awful, it’s really nice to see a cardinal against all the gray slush. But, I am a mean cynical nugget so all I can think about when I see a cardinal is Dead people. Or, Death Birds. Death BIRRRRRRRRRDDDD.
Which is nothing against the cardinal. Death Bird elevates him, in my opinion. He’s even got that little mohawk. At Christmas I’ve seen pictures of Death Bird sitting on Santa’s shoulder, almost whispering in his ear. I think is that Death Bird is a little spy sent from the afterlife to report back to our dead relatives all the shitty little things that we’re still doing. Oh my God, Carla said she was on a diet and she just got ice cream for the 3rd time this week. Billy said he was going to mow the lawn but instead he took a nap. His yard looks like a jungle. The neighbors are appalled. I have no idea why Death Bird is so nitpicky and judgmental but there you have it.
Honestly one of my bucket list goals is to befriend a crow. I’ve read that if you give them peanuts and stuff on the regular they’ll thank you by leaving presents: rubber bands and shiny things like pop tabs. We’ve got some really good mixed nuts around the house. What would they do for a cashew? Anyway Crow Friend can by my bird body guard and keep the Death Bird away. I really don’t need my dead relatives knowing how much ice cream I can put away in a week.
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