(Cough cough. No, I haven’t been celebrating anything today. Why do you ask? But I mean, have you ever just looked at the sky and gone “Wow man, it’s so effing huge! Play that Dead album again!”)
When I got my apartment one of my big selling points was my deck. It seemed so cool that I would have this little patio all my own. It made it seem a little less like a completely cookie cutter existence. I even had a view, how awesome is that? I just imagined myself sitting out there on summer nights, reading away.
Well, things didn’t work out quite as well as planned. My patio overlooks a parking lot and my city view consists of a couple of stoplights and skyline dominated by radio towers. Per Missouri state law it is illegal for me to have a barbecue grill, which was good planning on the legislature’s part because it would prove to be dangerous to my health. I also completely misjudged the Kansas City weather as my dreams of coming home from work on a summer night and reading to relax were dashed by the fact that summer nights here are 95 and humid, which along with the exhaust fumes from the road really ruin the moment. But there are a few weeks in spring (with today being a prime example) where I get to sit outside and just relax in some fresher air than what I have in the apartment. Except that I am no longer alone out there.
A few years ago a couple of pigeons decided to roost on my patio. Now I don’t really have a problem with this even though pigeons are nothing more than flying rats. However, they are living creatures and everything has a right to try to make its way in this world and as long as they don’t bother me I won’t bother them. They’re peaceful enough, don’t make noise and due to their nature are really kindred souls to me. Let me explain.
These pigeons have decided to roost on a support plank for the patio above my apartment that is maybe five inches wide. This is not exactly the right size for a nest so they have created some rather intricate engineering work to just keep this thing stable. In addition, my neighborhood lacks trees so I believe that part of their nest is constructed out of Sonic take out cups. While they had the sense to make sure that they are out of the rain they have never learned to anticipate the wind patterns that come with storms and blow down their nest. For years I have watched these birds build a nest, set up shop, have a windstorm knock everything around, and then rebuild the nest. They continually do the exact same thing with the hope that things will work out better next time.
Let’s be honest, I live my life the exact same way. If something fails I just blame luck and go back and try again. At some point it will have to work out. I joked with someone recently that I consider my luck with relationships to be the same as flipping a coin fifty times in a row and getting tails every single time. Sure, from a probabilistic point of view there is nothing wrong with that result but at some point you have to start questioning the coin. I never question the coin, just assume that I am right and move on. That’s not precisely the best attitude to have in life. Eventually I will have to admit that possibly, as unbelievably unlikely as that may be, that I could theoretically be wrong. Of course I’m never wrong so I’ll continue rebuilding my broken nest with my pigeon friends.
Best of 120 Minutes: In honor of 4/20 I was originally going to post the Spin Doctors “Little Miss Can’t Be Wrong” as a public service message warning children about what music they will end up liking if they do drugs. However, in their infinite wisdom Sony has decided that embedding Spin Doctors videos is a bad thing so I can’t do that. (Apparently there is a huge piracy ring surrounding fifteen year old Spin Doctors songs. Who knew?) Instead I’ll post a cool Sugar era Bob Mould song. At least this way I raised the level of musical discourse for the day.
1 comment:
I really like Bob Mould because I can't understand anything he says unless I know the lyrics and even then I don't understand what he is singing about.
Like Brazilia crossed with Trenton. What is that song about? I don't know but I LOVE it.
I can't bring myself to blog... so now I'm going to force myself to.
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