Friday, June 17, 2005

Birdie, Birdie In The Sky

Minding my own business, I was just doing my job. I parked where I usually park in front of a client's house. I hadn't even reached the stairs when ...Splat! I was "tagged" by a blue jay perched in a tree about fifteen feet above me. He got me square on the shoulder.
~ Hoping to make eye contact with it, I wanted to let that dirty bird know just what I thought of him. It hopped to another branch on the far side of the tree. I heard another "splat." That time the little marksman got the windshield of my truck.
~ An hour later, as I was leaving the client's home, I dared a glance up into the tree. I was relieved to see that the tree appeared to be vacant. Dismayed, I surveyed my windshield, only to discover that it had been tagged twice more. I think Mr. Jay had been getting a little too much fiber!
~ Splat! Splat! Two smart-bombs made their mark, one on the bill of my cap and the other on the sleeve of my shirt. Did I say smart-bombs? Perhaps smart-guano would have been more accurate.
~ I was suddenly reminded of a silly ditty we used to recite as kids. "Birdie, birdie in the sky. Birdie, birdie on he fly. Dropped whitewash in my eye. But I do not cry, I thank God horse don't fly!"
~ Remember that Hitchcock film "The Birds?" I think old Alfred missed the boat. If he really wanted to terrify the audience, he should have had the sea gulls make a few "bombing runs." A couple of well placed guano shots to a few faces would have had them screaming in the aisles!
~ I yelled up at that damned blue jay, "Go ahead! Go ahead. Everyone else does." I shook my head and grabbed a damp rag from my tool box. As I wiped the mess from my arm, I glanced at the tree and muttered, "I must have a target on my back." I had the strangest feeling that somewhere near, Gary Larson was lurking, observing this drama. I'm sure he must have gotten some good ideas. Maybe this would be funny enough to bring him out of retirement to resume his strip. Hmm, perhaps there is a boneless blue jay ranch.
~ The second verse of that silly ditty buzzed inside my head. "Birdie, birdie with a pretty bill. Birdie, birdie on my window sill. Led him in ... With crumbs of bread, Slammed the sash on his little head!"
~ Now, now wait!! I would never hurt a bird or any other creature for that matter. I would never do such a thing. My anger at the "innocent" jay manifested itself in my recital of that dumb childish song. I was just recalling the events of that morning. The disclaimer is to assure everyone that I am an animal lover.
~ By the way, there is another verse to that ditty. "Birdie, birdie down in the yard. Birdie, birdie I hit you too hard. It's not whitewash in my eye. It is the tears that I cry. I pray to God, it will get up and fly!"
~ I would be remiss not to add the following joke:
On tall pedestals on either side of the entrance to a botanical garden stood two nude statues of a man and a woman. They are reaching out to each other in vain. Their out-stretched arms instead formed and archway. The passing pedestrians seemed to be unaware of the two beautiful sculptures.
~ One evening, an angel floated down and landed beneath the separated couple. "It is so sad that you two stand guard over this lovely garden. You see the many couples in love who pass beneath you. They have what you cannot have."
~ There was a twinkling of bright lights all around the statues. No one passed as these two beautiful bronze figures came to life. They leaped down from their marble perches and approached each other. They were no longer made of bronze, but of flesh and blood.
~ The angel moved near them. Their eyes were upon each other. If they were aware of he angel, they gave no clue. She whispered to the love-struck pair, "I give you one hour. One hour to live and experience what those who have passed under you have experienced. Explore the garden. You are free to do anything you desire." With that the angel vanished, but her voice spoke once again, "Go, you have one hour."
~ Hand in hand, their naked bodies bathed in bright moon light, they disappeared behind some shrubs. There was some rustling and harmonized laughing coming from the bushes. For a few minutes the rustling became frenzied. Then all was quiet save for a sigh from the woman. Shortly they emerged from he shrubbery and returned to the entrance to the garden. Their bodies glistened in the sweat of their actions of only minutes ago. Their loving eyes were glazed, and yet still looking deeply into the other's eyes.
~ The angel reappeared beside them. She could readily see that the man was still in a state of desire. The wanton look of the woman's face spoke the same of her. She spoke softly to the pair, "That took only a half hour. You still have thirty minutes left. Thirty minutes to do anything you so desire. Go, and enjoy." With that the angel faded from view.
~ With a blushing giggle the man said to the woman. "Was it good for you, too?" he asked. She nodded and moved closer to him.
~ "Should we do it again?" he said timidly to her.
~ "Yes. Yes." she replied. She turned and began to run back to the bushes where they had experienced ecstasy earlier. He ran hurriedly after her.
~ She exclaimed, "This time you hold the pigeon and I'll shit on it!"
(Holds up laughter cue card.)
As it turns out, I left that neighborhood behind without further incident. It wasn't the first time I have been pelted by bird doo-doo, and it certainly won't be the last. But I couldn't help but wonder how that blue jay would feel if I were to "tag" him!


DottyLoulou said...

(I stopped by your blog after I went to Schnoodlepooh's.) I noticed you live in Ma. I lived there for 18 years. I worked at Filene's in the Natick Mall. If you are ever there...stop by the Clinique counter, and tell Katie and Bobbie that I say "Hi"....*lol*

schnoodlepooh said...

Schmike, Dottyloulou is Marcee's mom (Marcee from the poem "Ode to a friend").
Regarding your blog - I'm sure you know the Far Side cartoon on "how birds see the world" with all of the people walking by with targets on their heads. Sometimes I think life reminds me just a little too much of a Far Side cartoon. Or how about the cartoon, where a guy (you) is washing his truck and the bird is sitting up in the tree sayng, "you're mine, all mine". Anyway, when I lived in So.Calif. and used to hang out at the beach a lot, I got pelted by a few seagulls too. They have a saying down there that if a bird poops on your head that it's supposed to be good luck. Lucky you!

blue said...

LOL Point! Good one, as always. I too am an animal lover. Yep, the tastier the critter, the more I love them. But I digress. Keep it up!

Karyn Lyndon said...

Hey, thanks for dropping by my blog and for your kind words. I'm sorry you weren't able to follow through on what I "inspired." Maybe next time.

Re: birds. Ewwwwww!!! Surely it wasn't the same bird (and don't call me Shirley).


Karyn Lyndon said...
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