LITTLE KID'S STORY - Plus 10 Years #1 - Something Beautiful
As we drove along, I thought I saw something moving in the ditch beside the road. I asked Joanne to stop the car, and I went back to see what it was. It was a sea gull. Its left wing was tucked in close to its body, as one might expect, but its right wing was dragging along the ground. As I moved closer to get a better look, it tried to get away. But as it ran, its broken wing would either dig into the ground and flip the bird over, or get caught in some brush from which it would have to tear itself. Rather than force the bird to cause itself any further pain, I backed off. I felt that I should do something, but I didn't know what. Besides we were running behind schedule, so I went back to the car, got in, and we continued on our way.
But the bird was still on my mind, and later I mentioned the incident to my father-in-law. He said that the dogs at the dump would, sooner or later, catch the bird, kill it, and tear it apart. I made a cage. A cage of sorts...a laundry basket with a piece of cardboard...went back, found the bird, and, as quickly as possible, caught it, put it in my little cage, and went off towards the Audubon Society. I felt that they were the bird people. That they had the expertise. That birds were their specialty, and that they would be able to take care of him. Because, it seemed to me that if he should die, he should die in the air as a bird, not crawling on the ground being torn apart by dogs.
When we went into the Audubon Society building, people looked at me as if I were strange. They talked quietly to each other, and with fingers held close to their bodies, pointed.
The woman at the desk asked what I wanted. I said, "His wing is not right." And with a look of - oh, I don't know - confused astonishment, she asked, "Yes?"
I said, " I don't know birds. You do. You can fix him up. You know, make him right, so he can fly."
She said, "A seagull?"
I said, "Yes, it's a seagull."
And with that she got up, turned, walked to a door, and knocked. Someone said, "Come in." And she was in there for a while. I thought I heard laughter. She came out with another woman, and this other woman said, "Sir, our resources are limited. Do you understand what I am saying to you?"
I said, "Sure, you know, everybody knows money is tight everywhere. But about my bird . . . ."
She said, "Sir, you don't seem to understand."
I said, "I understand, you people are the bird lovers. You can fix my bird."
"But, a seagull?" She said. And then with frustration, she said, "Wait a moment here," and scurried up a flight of stairs. She returned with a man in about ten minutes. He introduced himself. I don't remember his name. He said that there is only one guy in the entire state that can do this kind of work. He said that he is always busy with rare birds, not seagulls. He said that there are millions of seagulls, and that we have to be selective. He said, "I am sorry. Truly sorry, but there is nothing we can do for you."
I said, "But what about my bird?"
He said, "You can take him back where you found him."
I said, "But the dogs! They'll tear him apart!"
He said, "Well, I suppose your could leave him here and we could take care of him for you."
I said, "I thought you couldn't take..."
He said, "We'll dispose of the bird for you."
I said, "Kill him?"
He said, "Painlessly, I assure you. Quite humanely."
I said, "But kill him! When he didn't do nuthin' - I mean, he didn't do nuthin" - he didn't hurt anybody. He's hurt. You're gonna kill him 'cause he's hurt?"
He said, "Please try to understand - there are millions - perhaps billions of seagulls. We just do not have the resources, either financially, or in personnel. As you were told earlier, we are forced to be selective. Rare Birds, endangered species, that sort of thing."
I said, " So what you are trying to tell me is that if there were only a few gulls?" He was impatient and angry.
He said, "That sort of thing is not called for. Now, I have told you what we can do."
I said, "Yeah - my bird dies, because there are too may like him." I was ready to punch him in the face. Punch all of them in the face. The Maine Audubon Society! They care about birds! But only special birds. Not just birds. I mean, I am no bird lover - but when I saw one hurt, I didn't check to see if he was on the right list, to see if he was deserving of my attention.
Joanne knew how I felt. It was on her face. She was scared. And that look, the look she had on her face, it was the only thing that kept me from hitting those lying hypocrites.
I left him. I left him for his painless death. His humane death. Probably in all honesty, more for me than him, because I don't know what a seagull knows. Maybe it wouldn't matter if her were torn up by dogs. Maybe he wouldn't even care, but I did.
And now people tell me not to speak ill of the Society. They say they didn't have to do it. They didn't have to take care of my bird. The say I should be grateful. I say to all of that - "BULLSHIT!" I say, it's like they are a white hospital and the seagull is colored. They say I'm way out of line. I say, no. Being selective in this way is being racist. And what we have here is bird racism. And it remains to be seen what these people will do down the line, if we don't stop them. My friends say people have to make decisions like that everyday. They say I should recognize the reality of logistical considerations...and I wonder where I've heard that before! My friends say they can no longer talk to me. They say it is impossible to discuss anything with an asshole. They say they can't understand why I am making such a great fuss. They say that in the greater scheme of things - in a world at large, the seagull is nothing - an ugly scavenger. And all it does for mankind is make weird noises, and crap in your face whenever you look up.
I remember not long after leaving my bird to his "humane" death at the hands of the Maine Audubon Society, I learned of a project funded by the National Audubon Society. A project working to establish a nesting colony of puffins. Near as I can tell, Puffins are colorful and harmless enough birds that live on the islands, feeding on various marine organisms. That people presently attempt to establish a colony of these little creatures speaks of a sad, but all too typical story of the damage done by man in days long gone and forgotten.
I guess that once upon a time there were puffins - puffins - everywhere. But then man showed up on the scene. Man with his basic needs of food, shelter, and clothing. Clothing such as hats with puffin feathers. Well, as man began to dominate, the puffin began to disappear. Disappear to such a point that only one nesting colony of puffins has remained in America. With contemporary views of being what they are, with so many trying to salvage something of what used to be, it is, perhaps, inevitable that someone should try to establish a second colony. Of course, this should not, and does not, make the attempt any less commendable.
The dedicated guardians of the puffins transplanted them; hand fed them, and did whatever they could to enhance the birds' chances of survival. But, it became apparent that the success of the project, as well as the continued existence of the established colony was threatened by sea gulls. For, whereas man's presence had decimated the puffin population it had quite an opposite effect on that of the gulls. For seagulls are, indeed scavengers eating just about everything. And, as such, are perfectly adapted to coexist with industrial urban man - God's greatest garbage maker. And to make it easier, we tended to gather all our garbage together in one place, into large seagull bird feeders called "Dumps". The effect of this seemingly endless food supply was a seagull population explosion of immense proportions. Seagulls - seagulls - everywhere! With expanded population came an increased need for living space; but there was a housing shortage for much that would be homes was taken by man for himself perhaps forcing the gulls back out to the islands. And man answered the ever-increasing demand for food by closing the dumps.
The gulls were faced with definite problems, but they are survivors. They would just as soon take someone else's space, someone else's food, the puffins', for example. Two species of gulls, the Herrin and the Greater Black Back, go so far as to prey upon nesting colonies of puffins, as well as terns and even their brother, Laughing Gulls.
Such action creates an obvious problem for those whose effort is to create and/or maintain a viable nesting colony. A gull, which carries off your birds' eggs, and even their young, has got to go. To protect the puffin, one must be selective and get rid of the seagull. Thus gull control is requested and received from the U.S. Department of Fish and Wildlife. Such control may consist of a morning egg smashing, or a leisurely afternoon shooting. Of course, with shot guns only. A more recent approach to gull control has been poison. The Environmental Protection Agency has approved the use of Poison 1339 by the Interior Department to kill the two species of gulls that prey on the nesting colonies. Poison is mixed with something or other - spread on bread - and then scattered about. It is a rather safe poison in that it quickly loses its punch when exposed to sunlight. And, if ingested by another creature will probably not do any serious harm. But to its intended victim, the gull, it is quite lethal.
I remember, every so often, people telling me that they saw fairly large numbers of dead gulls on the beaches. Now, I feel I may know something of why. It may be the aftermath of puffin protection through gull control, courtesy of Fish and Wildlife, with the approval - maybe even the blessing - of the Environmental Protection Agency.
And now I think I know something of the story of Nazi Germany, and it is not the story I was told in school. It is not the story of a few men in high places who go crazy one day. It is the story of intelligent, well-meaning, and very, very sane people who use reason and logic to solve a logistical problem, and thereby attempt to save their people.
One must remember that in Nazi Germany feelings were cultivated and an atmosphere created in which one was literally forced to think selectively.
Through years of careful propaganda, the very existence of the Jews, as well as others, came to be seen as threatening the continued survival of the Aryan people. It must be remembered that the gypsies, the retarded, the elderly, and other non-productive and/or destructive peoples were processed, because, among other things, they were siphoning off the country's limited resources - food included. In Nazi Germany certain people were sacrificed. Were exterminated, that others might live.
I maintain that the Environmental Protection Agency chose to view the bird world in such a way that the seagulls became the gypsies, the Jew, the elderly, the retarded, etc., who had to be exterminated that the selected group, the puffins, might survive.
Now, my friends tell me that I can't make such a comparison. I just cannot say such a thing. They say I should be locked up. I say to them, "Why haven't we heard of the gypsies, the elderly, the retarded, the dwarfs? Why is it always six million Jews?" They can't answer. I say, "We won the war and have a powerful Jewish lobby, that's why." They scream that it's not true, and unfair. I say, "Nobody likes the gypsies. And while we haven't killed off our elderly, our retarded, we have dumped them. And it is only through the conscious of the Congress that they have the support necessary to survive; that they have adequate food, shelter, and clothing. And now because of our money problems, those things are being cut back. Their support is dwindling. A hundred thousand units of housing have been cut out of the budget. Food stamps are being cut back."
I say, "What do we do?"
They say, "These people should have planned for their future. They should have planned for their retirement."
I say, "We are told that there is a global population explosion, and that in several places there is not enough food to go around." I say, "What do we do?"
They say, "Mass sterilization of the lower classes!"
I say, "OK. But in America today the babies are being born in the wrong place to support our economic system. They are being born to welfare people, not to those who put into the system. The children being born today are seen as down the line of siphoning off our resources. There are not enough people being born who will put something into the system. What do we do - sterilize them?"
They say, "No - no - no, but better birth control measure. And, if these people refuse to work, don't give them anything!"
I say, "Oh, so we leave them at the dump for the dogs."
They say, "What?"
I say, "Forget it!" I say, "So the Holocaust was bad."
They say, "Of course, a horror."
I say, "Why?"
They say, "Why?"
I say, "Yeah, Why?"
They say, "Killing six million people just because they happen to be of a certain religion is wrong."
I say, "Oh, but it's all right to kill someone if he happens to be Japanese, German, or Vietnamese?"
They say, "What?"
I say, "We kill during war because of one's nationality."
They say, "That's war. You are defending yourself. Your way of life."
I say, "The Nazis felt they were defending themselves, their way of life."
They say, "Well, you don't use gas and ovens."
I say, "So the crime is technique."
They say, "You're crazy!"
I say, "No, no. Would it be better if we killed them arbitrarily? I mean, you know, whoever happens to be here we kill. Whoever happens to show up in the plaza at two o'clock Saturday gets killed."
They say, "What the hell are your talking about?"
I say, "Well, we burned people alive because they happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. I mean, like we weren't selective at all - right? We said, "Whoever is here. We don't care about your age, your sex." You know, - Whether men, women, children, old people, retarded people, geniuses. We don't care about your political affiliations, your religion. If you happen to be here, we kill you. Right? And that is what Hiroshima and Nagasaki are all about.
They say, "Look - what you are talking about there is war, and that was necessary. It ended the war, and indeed, it saved millions of lives. Less Japanese died that way then would have had the war continued."
I say, "A-hah! So that killing people itself is not an evil. It's just whether or not you have what is considered to be a justifiable explanation, one which will stand the test of time."
My friends - they're gone. They don't see me. They won't see me. They won't talk to me. They say that I should get professional help. They say I'm sick, and I know they're right, because I feel guilty that I didn't pull a gun and make them help my seagull.
I mean I'm left handed. Like the movie The Snow Goose really gets to me. And I wonder how come in the story of the Titanic, as it was given to me, no one was rescued from floating cakes of ice, or icebergs, or the iceberg that actually sank the Titanic. No, I am crazy - because. . . (Musical Conclusion "Something Beautiful"). . . . .
The song "Something Beautiful" is from the Musical The Me Nobody Knows
I believe was based the book by the same name.
-Album Atlantic SD 1566