December 13, 2003

• Karma

  
  

  I gave Nick a call on my cell phone this morning while rounding the corner of Chestnut Ave and Green Street, to arrange plans for breakfast. Left a short chirpy little message, stuck my phone in my pocket, and continued on my way.

  
  

  Around the corner from my house I came upon a noisy shrubbery full of twittering birdies. 

  
  

  One of my favorite things in the world to do is quietly sneak up to a bushful of happy little sparrows and suddenly leap, throw my arms above my head, and yell “BLARGHK!” The abrupt swoosh of panicked wings beating the air and a whole flock of little hearts pounding in alarm is one of the most  amazing sounds on earth.

  
  

  You can imagine the ruckus.

  
  

  (Other things I like to chase: squirrels, caught unawares, and mangy seagulls on public beaches.)

  
  

  Should I feel remorse? I wondered as walked down my street. With food being so scarce after the snowfall, my little whim might have depleted a day’s worth of panicked energy for each of those little birds. Tucked in my warm jacket, heading for a cozy house,  with plans for sustenance and companionship only an hour away, shouldn’t I feel awful about terrorizing those chilly little birds? What entitles me, as a human animal, to amuse myself at another creature’s expense?

  
  

  But then again, isn’t that what a human being is, a thinking, feeling, creative, and ultimately destructive species?

  
  

  Why do I do this?

  
  

  When I got home, I wanted to call Nick again, but I couldn’t find my phone anywhere.

  
  

  Hmmm.

  
  

  I spent a good hour tearing up my house trying to find the damn thing. I checked my coat pocket about twenty times, yielding a great deal of lint, a random glove, some pennies, and a ticket stub. But no phone.

  
  

  The worst part was, I started to realize my isolation without that little idiot-gadget. My whole means of contacting anyone of my fellow people is encased in that little module. The result being that without it, I am a lonely creature in a lonely ecosystem. No cause and effect. No communication. No mother, no love life, no friends to have brunch with. I have to eat crummy old cereal by myself.

  
  

  Maybe that’s why I bother the sparrows. It feels like I have an effect on the world around me, to make them fly like that. It’s a way of being part of things.

  
  

  After I ate my cereal, I went for a walk back up the street.

  
  

  And there, under the empty bush, was my phone.

  
  

   

  
  

   

  
  

   

  
  

   

  • 1:28 pm
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