Spring has evidently sprung here at Jingo Headquarters, and birdsong has again become a deafening racket in the early morning.
As I sleepily hiked down the driveway to fetch the morning paper this AM, some old friends warbled their return from the treetops. A critter I've always called "the John Belushi bird" belted out "cheeseburger, cheeseburger, cheeseburger!" (Mr. Audubon insists the polite name for it is the Carolina Wren, but I'm having none of it. The proper reply to the John Belushi Bird is, "No Coke! Pecksi!")
Another old pal, who I think of as "the Nazi bird," cheerfully cocked its eye and anschlussed "Germany, Germany, Germany, Jewwww... Germany, Germany, Germany, Jewwww..." I don't know what Mr. Audubon says about this one, but I think it needs a Good Taste transplant.
A few years ago, Wonder Woman, an inveterate fan of the Avian-American Community, insisted she'd discovered a new species, "the Idiot Bird." I expressed skepticism, demanded proof.
A few mornings later, she smacked me awake, pointing out the open window next to our bed. "Listen! Hear it? Hear it?"
Clear as a bell: "I'm an iiiidiot, I'm an iiiidiot, I'm an iiiidiot...."