To whom it may concern:
To the birds outside my window:
My feathered friends of flight, I write to you in hopes that we can come to some sort of resolution. You see, every morning at precisely 4:17AM, you congregate outside my window – or within close proximity – and decide it’s time for a town hall meeting. Every. Single. Day.
Do you think I’m a drive-thru window? I’m not. There is no first window to pay at and no second window to pick up your 20 McNuggets, Big Mac *without pickles*, fries, and milkshake.
Now, I’ve never been a bird and I have a hard time understanding your dialect, so I don’t know what issues you deem necessary to talk about on a daily basis. Allow me to guess. Can I guess? I’m going to guess.
1. The Weather Forecast – You know more than meteorologists. Why? Because you live it. You’re not sitting in some cubicle looking at weather patterns. You are the pattern. The bird is the word on this one.
2. No Bird Left Behind – This is a daily reminder ever since you left little Louie all alone that one time, isn’t it? You had a hot lead on a McDonald’s bag that had just hit the ground and took off like a pack of hungry birds. Meanwhile, no one told Louie where you were going and he was too focussed on his iBird 5. Shame on all of you.
3. Aim and Fire – Everything you eat has to come out eventually. You probably talk about the best places to relieve yourself. You also probably whip out your handy notebooks. Yeah, I know about the notebooks. It’s called “The S. Hit List” named after the famous bird: Sherman Hit List. This notebook has a list of license plates and car models. Ready…aim…fire, am I right?
Sherman would introduce himself as Shhhhhherman, but was anything but quiet. Ironic.
4. Selfies – You all put on a human face, which looks like a duck face, and pose for the camera. You then cycle through all the great filters on InstaBird and press post, hoping your selfie garners the most “Wings Up” in the bird community.
I’m sure you talk about more things because it seems like you’re outside my window for hours, but those are the four vital issues.
Simple question: Why my window? Why must you chirp near my window? Take it outside. And by that, I mean somewhere deep in a forest.
You sound like my Italian relatives at a party. Everyone talking over everyone, brief silence for a bite of food, and then more talking. The only difference is, THEY AREN’T OUTSIDE MY WINDOW AT 4:17AM.
You wake me up. And you keep me up.
You’re lucky I’ve never actually gotten out of bed to come to my window. You’re smart in that sense. Picking on the one guy on the street that doesn’t want to roll out of bed, knock on a window, shake my fist, or pretend to dial 911 while staring at you. Touché.
However! That doesn’t mean that I won’t get up eventually and do one of the aforementioned things. Fear me, birds. Fear me.
Why couldn’t you be roosters? Huh? Why? Those things are at least known for waking people up. They get a lot of TV time on cartoons. If I saw a rooster on the roof, outside my window, I’d probably film it and put it on BirdTube.
Now, we can resolve this peacefully. There’s no need to get seagulls involved, I already don’t trust them. Know why? Way back in high school they “aimed” (you know what I’m talking about) for me, missed, hit my friend’s backpack, and ricocheted onto my jacket and backpack. It was a double duty demolition.
I dropped the assault charges because one of them prank called me and sent a shiver down my spine. Or was it up my spine? Hmm. Regardless of direction, it rattled my cage.
So let’s handle this on our own. I’m open to suggestions. Here are a few of my own suggestions.
1. Rock, Paper, Scissors. Best 2 out of 3, of course.
2. Pizza eating contest.
3. Mini-putt. The glow in the dark kind.
4. Or we can play a game of “Window or No Window”. I’m sure you’re familiar with the game. It’s the one where, one at a time, we have to decide if there is a window 10 feet in front of us, or not.
If we say “No Window” then we must charge at. I will run, you will fly. (Though after you see me run, you’ll think I’m flying too). Once we get to the 10 foot mark, we either run into a window we didn’t know was there, and lose, or we just pass through normally and the game continues. Sound fun? I think so.
Of course, it doesn’t have to come to this. You can relocate your town hall meeting to a different location, preferable one out of earshot of my sleeping self.
If you’d like to discuss this matter further, just peck at my window. I’ll be expecting you.
Thank you, and have a safe flight.
P.S. I’m sending this letter by
carrier courier pigeon.