I’ve been avoiding this blog and writing in general like the plague.  I’ve just been fucked up and sad, unfocused, uninterested…all of those things.  I’d rather just drink, burn and watch 30rock.  I haven’t gotten past the “no one can compare to her” part of my life. (Read this post if you’re new to me and my life. And if you are, why hello there!)  It’s been lonely and difficult…but enough about me.  Let’s talk about this post.  Cuz I know I’ve got a point in here somewhere…

Yesterday, at my Titis (plural) home in upstate NY, my little cousin presented me with a sick baby bird.  I picked it up.  It fit in the palm of my hand.  We filled a shoebox with grass, dirt and some toilet paper and plopped the little birdie inside.  Something wasn’t right though…I inspected the bird, nothing seemed broken, there was no blood.  My Titi Arlene and I decided to take the little bird to a rescue aviary.

So there we are in Yonkers at I swear what looked like a damned gingerbread house and a little old lady answers the door. She’s crotchety and unimpressed by our sad “we just found a sick lil birdie” faces.  She flips over the bird, spreads its wings and looks at us.

“There’s really no hope for this one,” she says, shrugging, lifting the bird out of our box and placing it into one of her cages.

“B-b-but why?” We ask trying to be strong, standing there like two bobas.

“Because this bird has pesticide poison.  It ate something treated with lawn chemicals and now its only a matter of time before the neurological shut down is complete. See, no blood, nothing broken, but this bird has already forgotten how to fly, soon it will not know how to stand and then well…”  The Aviary woman sighed and proceeded to lead us to her front door. “It’s happening all over.  People don’t care. Good night, ladies.”

Titi Arlene dropped me off at home and I’ve been wracked with so many fucking feelings ever since.

One – Goddamn Bee documentary, The Vanishing of the Bees already has me going crazy thinking of mutated Monsanto seeds.  Backtrack, Monsanto is a big corporate agricultural/biochemical company that creates GM seeds that are resistant to bugs and all those natural things plants have to deal with.  So the bee documentary suggests that one of the mega reasons the bees have vanished is cuz they’re being poisoned by pollen from Monsanto mutant plants. (watch the doc cuz really I’m layman terming it from here to the moon and back.)  Now in the back of my mind, I just think our food is fucking poisoned from the seed up.

The bees in the doc were disoriented too and forgot their travel paths and all this shit just like the little bird.  It got me wondering like maybe that’s what the fuck is wrong with us…maybe it’s all this secret mutant genetically modified shit going into our bodies that’s causing obscene amounts of Cancer, Autism, ADHD, Bi-Polar Disorder, Depression, Obesity, Aspberger’s, etc etc etc.  All of these thoughts and feelings got me bugging, like I’m trapped like I’m gonna die in the Bronx, poisoned, obese and for nothing. Hello, manic depression, how U doing?!

And that’s not all, back to the little bird and all it’s symbolism.  So now there’s this little innocent creature that’s been irrevocably f*cked by causes outside of its control, by the great monolithic pimp slap of greed, corporate corruption and all of our blind eyes. All I can think about is Christina.  I know, the Lifetime movie cliche of it all might make you want to roll your eyes, well fuck you.  To me, this bird and Christina are one in the same.

They could have cancelled that concert like they did one just a few hours away.  They knew the storm was coming and that it was going to be bad.  Someone with some sense told Sugarland not to go on…and then that stage fucking collapsed.  She didn’t have to die.  No one did.  There are 6 other groups of people who are just as distraught over this as those of us who loved Christina. Greed kept the concert going.

We like to say that fate has a heavy hand in all these things.  But Fate and God, to me, abide by the same rule of the thumb: they let us do as we please.  They’ve got other concerns.  We make decisions. They have consequences.  Nine times out of ten those making the decisions don’t suffer the consequences.

I’m so angry and depressed.  I don’t even want to fucking be here anymore.  I should be over this or something.  (Truthfully, I’ve got my good and bad days…) Now all I can think about is some poor baby bird dying in some lady’s aviary not knowing what in hell is going on and just being neurologically torn apart by some heavy chemicals.

This is the part where my wife would tell me to let some of the weight of the world slide of my shoulders.  But it ain’t sliding off fast enough. Couldn’t sleep last night, just images of my friend and baby birds swimming around my head.

I know I’m supposed to take some sort of activist stance now like start some fresh food farmer’s market on 241st and white plains or become a beekeeper or some shit.  Something that proves how deeply I’ve been affected by all this but well, I don’t see that happening anytime soon.  I’ve got beer to drink, tears to cry, pity parties to attend, you know the drill.  I got bills to pay and none of this makes sense to me anyway.

Where did the world I grew up in go?  The world where America rocked, bees still existed in strong numbers and my homegirl was still alive and kicking my ass to be the best?

Oh wait…yeah, I grew up. Feel free to tell me about how now you’re all bummed about little birdies too or something.  Comments = smiles.

 

ps – put a smile on your face. the christina inspired hoodies are actually super soft. www.christinaslegacy.org 

6 thoughts on “The Bird, the Bees and She

  1. When I was 5 I found two baby blackbirds in my back yard. They both had broken wings, and no mama bird in sight. My mother, grandmother and I took the birds, put them in shoe boxes, and let them live in my kiddie pool. We fed them and nursed them back to health. One day I went to check on them, and they were gone. I was heart broken, I couldn’t understand why they left me when I was the one who cared for them. My mother told me that even though they were grateful, it was time for them to fly, and that one day I would see them again.

    2 weeks before my mother died, I was still very much in denial about how serious her condition was. I ran to the grocery store, and in the parking lot was a blackbird. Just sitting there. As I got closer, I realized something must have hit it. It was bleeding and sitting there, just looking at me. As I passed it, it put it’s head down and died. In the instant, it hit me, my mother was going to die. All I’ve been able to think about in the years since is that bird. To me, it felt like it was the bird we saved, coming back to give me the heads up. Like, “Hey, get ready for this…It’s coming.”

    Maybe you needed this bird to help you process through some of your feelings about everything that’s happened. Maybe I’m crazy and birds have fuck all to do with anything else. Both are possible.

    • one – i love you.
      two – thanks for sharing this with me. that story is so beautiful and so half puerto rican 🙂 seriously, my grandma, lord rest her soul, would say that the bird in the parking lot was your sign. those are the things that fate and god deal with, you know? those inexplicable things, moments, omens, feelings.
      three – some days i feel so embarrassed letting out my grief to everyone, to FB, on here…like my public & online face should be in work mode or business mode or something. when really, i’m a wreck and the ones i want to be grieving with are so fucking far away.

      i was doing just fine until Tara handed me that little birdie, i swear. 🙂

  2. You wrote, “Nine times out of ten those making the decisions don’t suffer the consequences.” This is true in so many ways: politicians, CEOs of corporations, pesticide companies, state fair concert people…they all will gladly reap the profits on the backs of the every day person, bearing none of the harm of those decisions. I will probably now always despise Sugarland… and really is it their fault this happened? I don’t know. But their ginormous stage collapsed on our friend and other devoted fans who were just trying to take a break from their hard lives for an evening, and their stage people thought to protect the band before the audience members. I can’t help but be pissed off, too. Thanks for sharing, Gabrielle.

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