Fuck Birds

Twenty years after the fact I'm finally willing to admit to my parents that not letting me watch Saved by the Bell with my friends might have actually been to my benefit. On the other hand I'm pretty sure that "Classic Movie Night" my family clearly resulted in my current and, I'll admit, somewhat irrational fear of feathered creatures. I'm not sure how old I was the first time I saw Alfred Hitchcock's classic film The Birds, all I know is the impact it had on me was more than the film maker himself could have foreseen. It's not uncommon to find yourself sitting on a restaurant patio, watching birds land on a neighboring table and begin foraging on leftovers. I'm the person six tables away demanding to be moved inside, screaming irrationally at friends and servers alike, holding my arms up to protect my eyes (everyone knows these are a favorite snack for birds.) The casual walk from my apartment to my car becomes an all out sprint when I notice the pigeons beginning to gather on the telephone pole across the street. The private victory isn't over until I've driven far enough away to make breaking through the windshield an unlikely possibility. I realize this is an unavoidable fear and while I know how ridiculous it is to be afraid of something I eat on a regular basis,  trying to understand it is just as impossible as avoiding it. I quietly take comfort in enemies mysterious death, ancient poems, and the occasional game of Angry Birds.

"The worst lies are the lies we tell ourselves. We live in denial of what we do, even what we think. We do this because we're afraid. We fear we will not find love, and when we find it we fear we'll lose it. We fear that if we do not have love we will be unhappy." - Richard Bach

Picture Courtesy Of Mommyvictory