FEEL THE 'BIRD'
A week or so ago, Presidential Candidate Bernie Sanders visited Portland, Oregon and spoke to a large crowd of enthusiastic supporters at the ‘Moda Center’, home of the Portland Trailblazers basketball team. As Bernie addressed his thousands of fans, a tiny bird zoomed through the vast stadium, then dive-bombed down and landed on some equipment near Bernie’s podium, of course drawing the Candidate’s and the crowd’s attention. A few seconds later it flew up and perched right on the podium. For several entertaining moments, a grinning Bernie and the bird eyeballed each other to the delight of the crowd. Finally, the bird departed into the cavernous stadium, and Bernie, obviously enjoying the comical distraction, expressed that the event could be considered symbolic; indeed, that the wren or sparrow was actually a dove in search of world peace. The crowd roared its approval. Who knows? Maybe it was.
It brought
to mind a funny experience of a few years ago at Denver International Airport.
I’d been in Denver on business and was sitting in the boarding area of my
flight home pounding on my laptop. A minor commotion had broken out at the
ticket counter that was causing laughter, squeals and people ducking and
dodging. As I watched, a tiny bird could be seen flying around the airline
staff and customers near the counter. The bird was confused, if not
panic-stricken, and seemed incapable of simply leaving the area. For some
reason, I had an odd feeling of connectedness with that bird. I cannot explain
it other than that I had an urge to intervene on the bird’s behalf. I closed my
laptop and stood up, intending to head to the counter to see what assistance I
could offer. However, the bird had found a perch well above the heads of the gathered
travelers and I assumed the episode was over.
Twenty
minutes later boarding began, and I soon took my window seat about midway down
on the right side. After, I’d guess, a third of the passengers had filed in and
found their seats, yet another commotion broke out at the front of the
aircraft. As had happened earlier at the ticket counter, people were squealing
and dodging as a bird fluttered around their heads. The same critter had stayed
in the area near the ticket counter and then actually flew down the jet way and
into the plane. After a few moments things seemed to calm down, but then a
flight attendant got on the PA system to announce that 1. our plane had an
unwelcome invader, and 2. our plane could not take off for Portland until said
invader was caught and dispensed with. Groans arose from the travelers, not in
sympathy for the bird, but because Flight Attendant ‘Ratched’ (recall the nurse
of ‘One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest’) said our flight might be delayed.
I fully
expected the drama to be concluded at the front of the plane quickly, but
decided to unbuckle my seat belt, stand up and stretch in the aisle. Suddenly
there were more squeals and dipping heads up front as the fugitive critter once
again took flight. However, this time it was flying right down the middle of
the aisle towards the rear of the plane. In three or four seconds, the bird
arrived at my seat row and I reached out with my right hand and snagged it into
my fist. You’d have had to be there to believe it, but I got a cheer and
ovation from the other passengers who now knew their flight would depart on
time.
Being careful not to injure the bird, I opened my fist to see how it was doing. Obviously, the poor thing was terrified, but it was alive and squirming for its freedom. But now, Flight Attendant ‘Ratched’ was coming down the aisle towards me and holding open one of those flimsy airline blankets. She instructed me to put my hand with the bird into a pouch she’d created in the fabric and deposit the bird inside. I followed her instructions and withdrew my bird-free hand. I said something like, “Don’t smash him.”, but she did an about-face and headed back towards the jet way with her captive. I hoped that she opened the jet way door, shook the blanket and freed the bird, but I’ll never know. Her level of irritation with the bird was probably the result of an exhausting work day now made preposterous by something that, under less stressful circumstances, would qualify as slap-stick comedy.
But that still leaves my aforementioned feeling of connectedness with the bird at the beginning of its sojourn into Southwest Airlines history. In a matter of 30 minutes, a human sees (or feels) a small critter’s distress, is then separated by several hundred feet of jet way and aircraft, and then ends up with the critter flying into his outstretched hand. Unlike Bernie’s friend, my bird wasn’t conveying a desire for world peace, but maybe somehow it did have the innate ability to scan a crowd of other ‘critters’ and determine that one of those was its best chance to escape from the terrors of DIA. Anyway, someday I’d like to have a beer with Bernie and get his thoughts on it. If he gets elected, I think that discussion is worthy of the Oval Office, and Flight Attendant ‘Ratched’ ain’t invited.
Bill
Gritzbaugh
March 31,
2016
