Put a bird on it

I think that my husband might have finally won the battle against the bird feeder-raiding squirrels. He bought a new feeder that’s hanging outside my office window now, and the squirrels can’t seem to get near the seed for two reasons - one, it is designed with a mechanism that closes the openings when anything heavier than a bird tries to sit on the perch; and two, this feeder is very popular with the birds. It has four perches, and it’s not at all unusual to see all four of them occupied, with more birds waiting impatiently on the fence. I’m guessing that a bird left a five-star Yelp review, and then all of the other birds thought “what the heck, we might as well try it,” and here we are. I have my own private aviary, and I’m not mad about it. 

*****

In “Put a Bird on It,” one of the best-known Portlandia sketches, a Portland shop owner puts birds on everything she can’t sell, and all of a sudden, the merchandise is flying off the shelves. No one wants to buy that $25 canvas tote bag? Put a bird on it! Handmade coffee mugs gathering dust? Put birds on them! Framed art collection isn’t attracting attention? Hang up some framed bird prints, and you’ll have the trendiest gallery in town! It’s brilliant because it’s so simple and so true. People like birds. 

*****

Did you know that original editions of John James Audubon's The Birds of America sell for anywhere from $1 million to $10 million? This fact came up in a conversation among several characters on a TV show, and I did my own fact-checking research. And astonishingly, it is true. That is Gutenberg Bible money. That is original Shakespeare folio money. And to think that I own this treasure myself. 

Well, I own a miniature paperback replica that cost $15 new and that is probably worth about one dollar now, but the point is that it’s still really beautiful and it’s a treasure to me. I’m glad that someone thought to democratize Audubon and make him available to the 99%. Everyone should have access to beauty. 

Still, full disclosure: If I ever come into possession of one of the few extant copies of the real thing, I’m going to sell. I have bills to pay, you know? 

*****

My sister hates birds. Well it’s really more of a phobia than hatred. She doesn’t mind knowing that birds are flying about and conducting their business in the same world that she lives in, but she doesn’t want them anywhere near her. My sister would never have a bird feeder within 500 feet of her house. But other than my sister and a small percentage of the population who share her anti-bird sentiment, most people love birds (and more as we get older if the jokes about middle-aged people and birdwatching are based on truth, which they are). They are adorably shaped, with beautiful color patterns and markings, and they’re very entertaining to watch. Birds always look neat and tidy, no matter the conditions or circumstances. And of course, they can fly. Compared to birds, humans are infinitely capable, but we do envy any creature that can fly. 

*****

My husband just came in from doing some yard work. “We have a whole bunch of crows out there,” he said, “or maybe they’re ravens.” 

“They’re crows,” I said. “Someone once explained to me how to tell them apart: If you see a black bird and you ask yourself ‘Hmm, is that a crow or a raven?’ then it’s a crow. If you see a black bird and you ask yourself ‘Holy shit, what the fuck is that?’ then it’s a raven.”

*****

If we were to rank the creatures that humans love best, birds would probably come in fourth place, behind dogs, cats, and horses. We like to be with dogs and cats and horses, but except for a few exceptions (parakeets and canaries and budgerigars) we mostly like to just look at birds. And while cats and dogs and horses are all depicted in art, only birds have a whole genre of art dedicated to them. It could be a t-shirt or a tote bag or a handmade coffee cup - all you have to do is put a bird on it, and it’s art. 

Live, laugh, read - wait, why did I come into this room?

Yesterday, I was part of a social media conversation about adult ADHD and how to cope with it. I read through the comments to see if anyone had any good ideas, and I added my own: the Pomodoro Method. I think I’ve written about it before. It’s very simple. You set a timer for 25 minutes during which you focus on one task and one task only. When the 25 minutes is up,  you can take a break, check your email, stretch, or do whatever. 

The Pomodoro Method is named after those cute little old-fashioned kitchen timers that are shaped like tomatoes. I don’t have a pomodoro timer, but I have an app on my phone. The reason why you might want to use an app rather than your phone clock’s timer is that the app will track your 25-minute intervals (called “pomodoros”) so you can set goals and track your progress. 

It’s a remarkably effective tool, and I haven’t used it in some time, because something distracted me and I forgot about it. And every word that follows that second comma is the reason for almost everything I do or fail to do. 

*****

I’m reading Kristin Kobes DuMez’s Live, Laugh, Love: The Secret History of White Christian Women and the World They Made. It’s not as quick and easy a read as her first book, Jesus and John Wayne, but it’s very well researched. I didn’t think that I needed to know anything more about the worst of white American Christianity, but Kobes DuMez makes connections and traces trends and influencers and events back to their origin in a way that makes me question so much of what I thought I knew. Complementarianism and inerrancy are pretty much made-up concepts, and just as certain white Christian men used those made-up concepts to exert coercive control over women and everyone else in their charge, white Christian women used those same made-up concepts to curry favor with men, gain power via proximity, and keep other women in their place. “The world they made” is not an exaggeration. So much of American life from the 1950s to the present day is built on a foundation of white supremacy, misogyny, free market absolutism. It makes sense that the people who benefit from that foundation would reimagine Christianity to strengthen it. 

*****

I finished the book last night, and I was glad to have it behind me. The thesis is sound and the facts to support it are solid, but it’s not especially well written - not in the sense of writing quality, because Kobes DuMez is a very good writer, but in the sense of storytelling. There are places here and there where she tries to help the reader understand a subject and her story, but most of it reads as a recitation of facts - this happened, and then this happened, and here is how these two events are connected. It reminds me of a high school textbook. I give it a B. 

What does this have to do with adult ADHD? Well nothing - that’s the point. Seriously, though, back in the day, I’d have finished a book of this length in a day or so, but this one took me over a week. Clearly I need to get back on the pomodoro.   

A single consequence

“Ukraine has gone too far.” - Elon Musk

Telling, isn’t it? Russia bombs residential districts of Kyiv almost nightly. They destroyed Mariupol and Bucha and Oleshky. They kidnap Ukrainian children. But none of that is “too far.” Human life: expendable. Data centers: Inviolable. Well, not that Elon cares what NPCs like me have to say, but for the record, I hope they’re just getting started. I hope they destroy every data center in Russia, and every diesel refinery too. 

*****

And once again, cancer has come for the wrong person. I’m hoping for a full recovery for Pope Leo. I’m also hoping that the most evil people in the world will someday have the day that they deserve; but at this point, I don’t even need consequences, plural. I will settle for one single consequence for any one of them. And Kimberly Guilfoyle getting fired does not constitute a consequence - she’s small potatoes (in the words of the President describing dead service members). 

Of course, Guilfoyle could be a consequence all on her own. She can’t be happy about being yet another female sacrificial lamb for this Administration, nor about the President casually saying “I think she used to date my son.” In fact, she definitely DID date Trump’s son, and she spent a lot of time with the Trump family, and I bet she knows some things that they’d prefer that we didn’t know. Burn it down, Kim. What do you have to lose?

*****

Things move so fast around here, don't they? I was literally just talking about female sacrificial lambs in the Trump administration, and I could still talk about Trump administration female sacrificial lambs, but it would be another one altogether. As they say on the Internet, Katie Zacharia didn't even last a half Scaramucci. Ostensibly, she was asked to resign (fired) because she claimed to be an attorney. And maybe that actually is the reason. Never mind the ridiculousness of the White House either not knowing that she isn't a lawyer or knowing that she isn't but was claiming that she is and hiring her anyway. The thing is that the Press Secretary doesn't need to be a lawyer. She was just very bad at the job and should never have been appointed in the first place. Just like Shane Gillis is very bad at being a comedian and he should never have had an opportunity to call women whores on Saturday Night Live. 

Gosh, we're getting greater every day. Thank goodness we're no longer living in a woke DEI hellscape. 

*****

It’s Saturday afternoon, and I’m in between activities. This morning, I went to a protest, dropped off a skirt for alterations, and spent $203 on groceries that would have cost about $125 a year ago. Now I’m sitting in my family room with the late afternoon October sunlight filtering through the trees and through my window. 4:30 on Saturday afternoon is the most autumnal time of day. 

The protest was at a different location than my usual spot, which is near a shopping center, which I suspect might have pressured the No Kings organizers to keep the sign-waving crazies away from their property. The new location, the sidewalk in front of a church on New Hampshire Avenue, was just as good.  The church allowed us to park in their parking lot, and there was lots of traffic. As usual, most of the drivers honked and waved at us and as usual, we mocked the few who flipped us the bird. I was out for about an hour and then I walked back to my very conveniently parked car and went about my day. 

*****

Last year, I ran into a neighbor at a protest. “It’s kind of a boring protest, isn’t it,” she said. “I was thinking there would be more music and dancing.” The music and dancing part was ridiculous but she wasn't wrong that a peaceful protest in the suburbs is kind of boring. You hold up your little sign and you wave to supporters as they drive by, and you go home, and the conditions you were protesting still exist. But eventually, we’ll wear them down. And even if we don’t, I’ll know that I tried to do something. 

Election Days

I’m the secretary for our neighborhood association (God help me) and our monthly meeting is tonight. I used to take notes on my computer during the meeting, but I switched to handwritten notes, because I found myself transcribing every spoken word (I type fast) and I’d end up with ten pages of Godforsaken drivel to condense. Now I just hand write the important points and transcribe it all. You’d think that this would be harder, but you would be wrong. It’s much easier. 

*****

During the summer, we meet in person, and transition to Zoom in the fall. Last night was our first Zoom meeting since spring, and I forgot how much I hate trying to take notes during a Zoom meeting. There are too many voices talking all at once, and it’s hard to keep track of who’s speaking when I’m looking at a dozen little video thumbnails. It’s very overstimulating. It’s a lot. 

Our annual election takes place next month, and I’m one of the three members up for re-election. We serve three-year terms, and assuming that I win, I’ll have served for nine years at the end of this term. Thanks to multiple mergers and acquisitions and force reductions, I’ve never even worked in the same paid job for nine years. And so this next term will probably be my last. Nine years is enough, I think. 

*****

It’s Thursday morning and I’m working at home, only I’m not working, I’m writing because my computer is once again behaving like an absolute jerk. It’s updating now, again, which is good because that computer needs a little bit of quiet time to think about its life choices. It needs to reflect. I’ve been told by the IT powers that be that I am “on the list” for a replacement computer. But I have absolutely no idea how long the list is, or if I’m at the top or bottom of the list. I don’t even know if there IS a list. They might have made that up. 

*****

Every October, our neighborhood association sends out a mailing, with instructions for electing the trustees (that is what we are - we are a Board of Trustees, not a Board of Directors), an official ballot, a SASE for people to mail their ballots, a draft budget for the coming year, proposed changes to the governing documents, etc. It is my job to write the cover letter, assemble the rest of the materials, and send everything out to the 800 or so households in the association. Thankfully, we outsource the worst part - the envelope-stuffing, the stamping and addressing, and the actual physical mailing - to a mailing house. I’d lose my mind if I had to collate 800 stacks of paper and then stuff them into little envelopes. 

*****

It’s Saturday now. I woke up this morning with a very bad headache that got worse and worse. It’s better now, but not gone altogether. The annual mailing and meeting minutes might have to wait until tomorrow. My head still hurts enough that I can’t quite think straight. Or maybe I can’t think straight because of all of this (gesturing wildly at everything). It’s hard to even joke about it anymore. The government is shooting people in their cars while their five-year-old children scream in terror from the back seat, and we’re now one of maybe four countries in the whole world that holds public executions. No wonder my head hurts. The human body wasn’t designed for 24/7 shock and outrage. 

*****

Our next Board meeting happens to fall on Election Day, and two days later, we’ll hold our annual meeting and Board election. I’m only worried about one of these two elections, and it’s not the one in which I am a candidate. I’m pretty popular in this neighborhood and I’m going to win in a landslide. Of course, I’m also running unopposed. And even if I did have a viable opponent, I would not really care if I won or not. In fact, I’d probably vote against myself, just so I wouldn’t have to write meeting minutes anymore. 

The point being that my neighborhood election is completely lacking in peril, while the real election is absolutely fraught with it. The Republicans could hold on to the House and the Senate. Polls have been wrong before, as anyone who suffered through 2016 and 2024 can tell you. But that’s not my biggest worry. My biggest worry is that this Administration is not going to allow the outcome of this election to be determined by voters. It's about to get perilous. 

Lingua Franca

I have never had a talent for foreign languages. I speak English, and that’s pretty much it, other than a smattering of French and Spanish. My husband is Korean and I can’t speak the language other than a few key words and phrases, but I can usually figure out what people are saying. 

But there are lots more languages than French and Spanish and Korean and even English. There’s lingo, jargon, in-jokes, terms of art - and I excel at all of them. I pick up on acronyms and initialisms and slang terms really quickly and from there, I can usually get the feel of a new place or a new group of people. When I’m in a new environment, I can learn the language, so to speak, and I can pick up on visual and auditory clues to puzzle out the place and the people in it. It’s a useful skill to have. 

Sometimes, though, just when I think I know a place and its language inside and out, I get pulled up short and reminded that I’m still relatively new and that I don’t know quite as much as I thought I did. It’s the beginning of the fiscal year and the discussion in almost every meeting revolves around contracts and grants and funding mechanisms and burn rates. Having been in and around federal government offices for a long time, I can keep up with that discourse reasonably well (though do not ask me to provide a recap afterward). But there seem to be a ton of new acronyms and catch phrases with which I am not yet familiar. 

Luckily, that part of the meeting had nothing to do with me, and no one would ever expect any input from me on budget or financial matters. I zoned out until we moved on to other topics. Still, it’s troubling to feel so out of my depth. I’ll pay attention next time. 

*****

The language of football is one that you’d think I’d have mastered by now, considering that my husband and younger son are avid fans, and my house is all football all the time every Sunday from September to February. I have not, however, mastered the language of football, but that is not because I couldn’t if I wanted to. I can hold up my end of any discussion of baseball or NHL hockey, and don’t get me started about college swimming. But I look at that gridiron and the goal posts (is that what they’re called), and its mysteries remain obscured to me. I have no idea where the line of scrimmage is, and although I know that “safety” has two different meanings, I don’t know either of them. 

But who cares, because everyone is home and watching football, and it’s fun just having everyone here. The Commanders are my family’s team, and they’re playing in London, and my husband and both sons and my son’s girlfriend are all here having breakfast and watching the game, which started at 9:30 our time. We made eggs and bacon and pancakes and fruit salad and biscuits, and everyone filled their plates and ate in front of the TV. Right now, I’m sitting outside next to a space heater with raindrops tapping on the metal roof of our outdoor pavilion, having a nice latte before I go back inside to clean up the kitchen and then hang out in front of the game with my people. You don’t have to be fluent in the language to enjoy the culture, is the way I look at it.