The dead birds omen
When I saw that 2000 dead birds had died the same day I was contemplating double digit birds on a wire, I worried the news was a harbinger of worse things to come. Now I read in the NYT this morning that it was 5000 dead birds in Arkansas and 500 here in Louisiana. I read this with great interest because for the 60th day in a row, I woke with a terrific headache. A sharp piercing headache I am now wondering if it is caused by the dispersants that continue evaporating into the air and raining down on us during our typical New Orleans monsoon season.
The other day at the Dive screening, everyone who is hipper than me, spoke of a movie called Gasland that talks about fracking and other things and suddenly everything was spinning out of control – instead of belonging to the Polly Anna world I have occupied my whole life where “everything is going to be beautiful” (a phrase an ex brother-in-law of mine used often), I was now on the other side, the world of Susan Sontag where my not participating in a huge way meant I am shallow with nothing to offer the world (guilty by non action).
The dead birds might have something to do with my headache – they may have everything to do with the horrible BP tragic oil spill – they may have nothing to do with the Saints losing last night – I lay claim to their loss myself when on the advise of my neighbor I ran back in to watch the last seven minutes and to my anxiety they lost – is this because I gris gris’d the games by watching them? If so, can wenall get on with our lives post Super Bowl 2010?
While the Saints were trying to pull off win in the final moments, I yelled OH SHIT and then Tin yelled back OH SHIT – so I changed to Bless You Boys – and Tin said BLESH YOU BOYZ over and over but T wasn’t too sure she wanted this quasi religious statement to be the phrase of the house, of the evening. So we turned off the TV abruptly.
To the dead birds I say shit happens. To the world I say wonder happens. Bless us all.