Thursday, March 02, 2006

Shades of Hitchcock

My desk is located next to a window that overlooks a small parklike space adjacent to a residential neighborhood. There are nice sized trees in the space and a lawn, and since my office is located on the north side of the building, the light is diffuse and pleasant. During cloudy dark days, the window doubles as a mirror. On sunny days, the greenery is bright and cheerful. People bring their dogs to run about and neighborhood cats proul the arborvitae that stand along the edge. A family of squirrels have the run of the trees and birds forage for insects, seeds, and worms.

The city is on one of the major bird migratory flyways, so transients are common. Today it seems word got out to the avian community because the place is ALIVE with birds. Mostly starlings, but there are chickadees, robins, house sparrows, and hummingbirds. The starlings burst like fireworks from their perches and the ground at the slightest disturbance. It's like there's a huge avian party going on and I'm the only one not invited. Oh, except a crow. He's standing at the side, watching and waiting, waiting and watching. I can imagine the conversation between a couple of the robins going on:

R1: Hey Mike.

R2: Bill! Hey, good to see ya! Glad you made it here!

R1: Yeah, man. The crossing over the river was killer. Wind blew me all over. Thought I'd buy it when that jet nearly sucked me in.

R2: Yeah. Damn airports. Why they need 'em just kills me. Gotta make a running start like a damn goony bird.

R1: Don't let one hear you say that, man.

R2: Trust me. I wouldn't.

R1: Look at those goofballs just spinnin' up there by the windows. You'd think they'd gotten wired on something like those hummers.

R2: Crystal in their crickets.

R1: What th'--S^(UT! Crow! Crow! Crow!

R2: He's got one of the flock!

R1: Can you tell who it is, Mike?

R2: I saw him on the way---yeah, it's that one guy who'd belch on earthworms. What was his name?

R1: Jim.

R2: Yeah. Jim. Dang. He was hilarious. I was hoping to hear him all the way through the redwoods.

R1: Dang crow.

R2: Man, listen to those starlings giving him hell. That'll teach ya, you bastard!

R1: Talk about a party crasher.

R2: Yeah. Hey Bill, I hear there's a park not far from here that's next to a school. Has some great leftover seed.

R1: Sounds good. Show me the way, Mikey.

It was just like that. One minute the birds were out there having a great time, then a crow came along, made a kill and essentially killed the party. All the birds were gone. All that was needed was a uniformed pigeon waving a baton and saying, "Move along, nothing to see here, move along, nothing to see here..."

On another surreal note from dreamland, I dreamed that Ronald McDonald was arrested for selling meth to kids. He had changed from the lovable cuddly clown to this cigar puffing, red-eyed maniac with mottled teeth and horrible skin. The cops were pulling him away as he screamed, "I didn't do it! I didn't do it!" The next thing I see is him in a cage smiling innocently as folks do a fundraiser to raise money for his bail. Very very weird. But I can see him doing meth. How else is he gonna work off those french fry thighs?

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