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Isn’t Life Grand

With Rufus Maxwell

With all those birds up in the sky it’s really surprising how seldom a human pedestrian gets nailed on the head or the shoulders with pasty, white bird poop. The gravity-based, new math on the subject clearly dictates that a serious number of direct hits would ultimately occur non-stop, all-day, especially at (bird) feeding times. Remaining residue common to initial research clearly indicates that a raindrop effect would emerge, wherein the moist barrage would be persistent, direct and almost continual.

The simple equation would then have to be: More birds up there = more poop down here. Now, ask three of your friends, “When was the last time you were hit by bird droppings? I’ll bet none of them can remember even one such incident. How can this be?

It only stands to reason that if x amount of poop is dropped from x amount of bird asses then x amount of the said white stuff would land on the ground. Birds can let go while in the air or in a tree but are said to prefer a quiet, restful place.

Are the birds aware that there are innocent people down below? They always seem so self-absorbed, fluttering their feathers, squawking, pecking at knits and parasites. Is it difficult to aim and execute while steering? Maybe they are elitists. Maybe they just don’t give a damn. 

Are the inevitable drops some sort of a message? Are there common elements at play in these attacks? Do they exhibit anti-social tendencies? Are there indications of coordinated planning? Just how deep does this doo-doo go?

Nobody knows how many birds are flying above his head at a given locale or specific time of the day. It does not help to look up. Likewise it is impossible to count all of the birds in the trees, on the roofs of houses & barns, eclectic wires, bridges, fences, sunny lofts, shady perches, hanging feeders, neon signs and upstairs patios. Even if one succeeded in counting all of these birds he could still find a sticky sample his hat or a little white surprise on his shoulder.

 Moreover, when one considers that birds spend the whole day eating seeds, insects, buds, leaves and twigs he must face the fact that the waste matter remaining must go somewhere. It is expelled and lands where it lands. The math alone would dictate more direct hits, which could lead to tasteless jokes and betting schemes similar to turkey bingo.

“We should learn from this research,” said one professor of body chemistry at WSCU, “and never go outside.”

Other more progressive voices call for calm and say that the eco-system is working for now.

“What’s the big deal?” said the source. “On an average day we probably step in a whole lot more than a little bird crap. Most birds are small but viewing a large hawk or eagle does give one a different perspective.” 

– Fred Zeppelin

Isn’t life Grand is an op-ed where witless, stupid fears and opinions replace vindictive, witless, stupid, cartoon news broadcasts.