Welcome back to The Shitshow Room on this second-to-last day of 2020.
I regret to inform you that I am not one of those people who holds out an enormous amount of hope that 2021 will be kind of a magical Better Time and even if I did, I am way too superstitious to say so.
In fact, the end-of-the-year always puts me in a kind of funk. I stress out about all the things I dreamed I would do and did not accomplish. The books unread. The words unwritten. The abs unsculpted.
Despite the logical part of my brain (and hours of therapy) reminding me that during this pandemic year, I should not be so hard on myself, I feel the end-of-the-year angst even more intensely now.
But then again, I feel everything more intensely right now. The seconds of daylight lost or gained. The uptick of the barometer. The yellowing of the supposedly unkillable plant in the living room.
Oh, and I have become obsessed with the birds.
I started to notice them when everything got quiet in March. Were there always dozens of mourning doves in that tree? Was I just at work all the time and didn’t notice? Did the city noise drown out the delightful whistling noise they make when they flap their wings? When did that nice cardinal couple start coming by? HOLY FUCK IS THAT A WOODPECKER?!
Unable to go to the movies or theater or meet friends at a bar, I’d go look for owls in the park, socially distancing myself from crowds of other New Yorkers and staring up at a beautiful feathery blob, waiting for it to turn its head or fly. “Do you see it? Where is it?” Some people have fancy equipment high-speed cameras with powerful zoom lenses. I tend to just test the limits of my iPhone camera and come up with images that look like they were taken from beneath a frozen pond.
The birds are our celebrities now. The owls have names. There was a bald eagle the other day in Central Park. A. Bald. Eagle. I tweet (ha ha) about how the pandemic made me A Bird Person. Some people knew the birds before they were cool. I am definitely a bandwagon fan.
One day I noticed a little yellowish green guy pecking for crumbs next to an overflowing trash bin on Manhattan Avenue. I remembered reading something years ago about monk parrots in Central Park and thought it was one of those, busting out and hanging out with his secret clique of sparrow friends.
But when I posted a photo on Instagram, my friend Sasha, a Longtime Bird Person, said that this was a lovebird, probably an escaped pet. After that I began looking for the little guy every time I went outside, thinking I might be able to rescue and return him. I saw him about a half-dozen times, but I was never close enough to catch him. And, by the way, what would I catch him with? I did not think through this plan. (Eventually it was caught by a prepared person, and I ended up being the kind of person who now reads NextDoor all the time in search of more lost pets needing saving.🥴 )
Shortly after this, I ordered a bird feeder. I was inspired in part by the idea that maybe lost birds would come by and have a snack and also by the great Dan Sinker, who was posting pictures he and his son drew of birds. It was still warm and I was outside on the porch a lot. The tomatoes and herbs in the garden were still thriving. Putting up a feeder was not the level of commitment that, say, building a squirrel table might be, but I thought it might be a nice addition to our little yard.
The two raccoons that had recently started visiting us every night, of course, assumed this thing full of fancy bird seed was a gift for them. One night I watched as the bigger one jumped on the tree branch and shook it over and over until the feeder tumbled to the ground and the two trash pandas gobbled up all the hulled sunflower seeds and whatnot.
The feeder was then moved to what my husband thought would be a sturdier spot near a back window. The next night the raccoons brought it down again. It was a stunning operation, really. One raccoon climbed the window grate and pulled on the feeder. The other one vacuumed up seeds below. Eventually they brought the whole thing down. I could only marvel at their teamwork and commitment. (And post as much video as possible)
A few weeks later, we decided to try a new spot that the raccoons have yet to conquer (knock wood). I can see the feeder from my bedroom and sometimes I just sit there and watch the birds gather. The mourning doves and the sparrows dominate the bird party. A tufted titmouse has started coming by. (Oh, and I now know what a tufted titmouse is.) Like Linda Belcher on “Bob’s Burgers” with the alley raccoons, I watch from my window and make up drama about their bird lives and the bird beefs they have with one another. I imagine them saying “Oh fuck, here comes these assholes again” when the blue jays come screeching in or being impressed by the punk rock red-bellied woodpecker who swings by some days. I have binoculars on the windowsill now. I feel a little like Jimmy Stewart in “Rear Window”, but with birds and no crimes. Yet.
I’m not sure where this all ends up, but I guess watching the bird parties outside does take my mind off the horrors of the world for a bit and momentarily halts end-of-the-year self-flagellation.
Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a feeder to refill.
Please enjoy my new favorite Twitter and Tik Tok personality, So Wylie, a music producer and composer who has made delightful bird-inspired beats!
SIDEWORK: Thank you for reading The Shitshow Room! You can sign up for The Shitshow Room for free, but if you if you do decide to become a paying subscriber, $5 a month (or $50 a year), I will be donating half the proceeds each month to a few charities that help struggling food-service workers and Americans experiencing food insecurity. I will let you know when we make a donation, how much it is, and who we are helping. Our next round of donations will go to New York Common Pantry. We have previously supported No Kid Hungry and World Central Kitchen!
Follow me on Twitter: @lisatozzi or email: lisatozzi@gmail.com
My husband is right there with you on becoming bird obsessed during the pandemic. We now have about 10 different bird feeders, five new books on birds, and a new zoom lens for the camera to get better bird pictures. I don’t know if this will stop after the pandemic, but right now he spends a significant amount of time identifying birds every day. Let me know if you plan a field trip so he can join. Leah