Since moving over to a new side of the building, I've been exposed to a dark secret of the OSU Foundation....bird murders. The three offices across the hall from my cubicle all have large windows looking out on some trees surrounding the building. These trees produce some kind of berry that the birds around here find irresistable. It's not uncommon to have four or five birds at a time hopping around on the ground picking up this fallen fruit. However, these birds seem to not realize that these windows cannot be flown through, as a few a week hit the windows with shocking velocity.
When I say shocking, I mean instant death. I'm not joking when I say that these birds leave impact stains of blood on the windows. It's really quite disgusting. There's two bird carcasses just laying on the ground right now.
It seems that the frequency of these bird suicides is increasing, as over the past few days I've heard that sickening "THUD" at least three times. The talk around here has been increasing about whose responsibility the bird carcasses are. It seems like we're focused on the wrong problem here. Instead of working on cleaning up the problem, shouldn't we be working on preventing the problem?
Here's a thought: Why don't we just pull the blinds on these large windows? Birds don't make it a habit of flying into walls to my knowledge. Is the view of a run of the mill tree worth the life of the birds in it? Going deeper, is any view worth the life of a living thing? Would you cut down a redwood to get a view of a mountain from your backyard? Would you "thin out" a flock of seagulls that kept crapping on your deck?
Please know that the answer to these questions for me is yes. You can always plant another tree, and I can't imagine that anyone would find the world a less joyous place if there were no seagulls. But if the sound of birds hitting your window or the sight of their death imprint or lifeless bodies is disturbing to you....maybe, just maybe, closing your blinds is a step worth taking.
Thursday, October 28, 2010
Wednesday, October 20, 2010
That was one crazy game of football
Saturday marked the Bi-annual OSU-Washington game in Seattle. Every two years, my friends and I mark this occasion by basically inviting ourselves up to Steve's house to sleep on his floor and put a strain on his marriage. I have yet to meet a girl that enjoys hosting "guy time." Pasha is a trooper, and puts up with us as best she can, which can't be easy given our propensity to talk loudly and profanely, eat like a horde of locusts and just generally smell like men. I have yet to figure out why, but there is a certain odor that is given off when three or more men occupy an area for more than five hours that just isn't there when only one is around. It's quite remarkable actually. I'd equate it to women getting on the same menstrual cycles when they live together. A guy lives with two other guys long enough, they're all going to smell like a pack of wet dogs and fart in unison. It's a given.
Like any group of guy friends, we like to pretend we're as rowdy as we were in college, but it just isn't true. We can't drink like we used to, can't eat like we used to, and require more sleep than we used to. That doesn't stop us from trying, however. This resulted in sore backs, vomiting, and some bad cases of the bubble guts. Despite all that (and a Beavers loss), a good time was had by all....mostly.
There were a few minor hiccups. We were almost involved in a car wreck on the freeway Friday night when traffic suddenly slowed to a crawl up near Tacoma. This shouldn't have come to a surprise to anyone, as traffic is always at a crawl in Tacoma, but it caught the guy merging from the on ramp off guard as he spun out the car behind us. Fortunately, the impact pushed both cars around us and we came out unscathed.
At the game, a particularly drunk Husky fan started harassing Pasha, which led to a minor verbal dispute in which Dave told the guy not to mess with us and Husky fan going ballistic. He shouted down the concession stand lady with his hot dog by saying "Keep my f*cking money!" and told a security guard "no, you're going to stay right f*cking there until I'm done with this guy." Dave, to his credit, kept his cool and let the guy talk himself out. His rant also included him telling Dave to "give me a reason" and explaing that he was a "one percenter." When Dave calmly responded that he didn't know what a "one percenter" was, Dude responded with the ever classy line "you don't ever want to find out, brother!" At this time, a sheriff showed up and dude suddenly lost his desire to verbally joust with the surprisingly stoic David Crow. Later, we discovered that a "one percenter" was a reference to him being part of an outlaw motorcycle gang. It appears that the term originated from a quote by the American Motorcyclist Association back in the 1940's saying that "99% of motorcyclists were law-abiding citizens, and the last one percent were outlaws." A pretty vague reference that I'm sure this guy was upset that Dave, nor anyone else who was in attendance, understood.
We almost made it through the rest of the game without incident, thanks in large part to the anemic offenses of both the Huskies and the Beavers. The TD's started coming in bunches in overtime however, and that led to a touchdown celebration that separated Garth's shoulder. As he sat there in pain trying to wiggle it back into the socket, this girl behind us kept yelling at me to "find a paramedic!" However, Garth was adamant that he could fix this problem himself, and in a true act of selflessness, didnt't want us to miss any of the action in overtime by going to look for help. Fortunately, he was finally able to get his shoulder set, and no medical assistance was necessary.
There was also a domestic dispute at the tailgate next to us that sadly I missed, but I heard it involved the girl throwing everything out of the guy's truck, him forcibly removing her from the truck, then her yelling "how can you do this? We're pregnant!" Truly sad I missed this show.
Can't wait to do it all again in 2012!
Like any group of guy friends, we like to pretend we're as rowdy as we were in college, but it just isn't true. We can't drink like we used to, can't eat like we used to, and require more sleep than we used to. That doesn't stop us from trying, however. This resulted in sore backs, vomiting, and some bad cases of the bubble guts. Despite all that (and a Beavers loss), a good time was had by all....mostly.
There were a few minor hiccups. We were almost involved in a car wreck on the freeway Friday night when traffic suddenly slowed to a crawl up near Tacoma. This shouldn't have come to a surprise to anyone, as traffic is always at a crawl in Tacoma, but it caught the guy merging from the on ramp off guard as he spun out the car behind us. Fortunately, the impact pushed both cars around us and we came out unscathed.
At the game, a particularly drunk Husky fan started harassing Pasha, which led to a minor verbal dispute in which Dave told the guy not to mess with us and Husky fan going ballistic. He shouted down the concession stand lady with his hot dog by saying "Keep my f*cking money!" and told a security guard "no, you're going to stay right f*cking there until I'm done with this guy." Dave, to his credit, kept his cool and let the guy talk himself out. His rant also included him telling Dave to "give me a reason" and explaing that he was a "one percenter." When Dave calmly responded that he didn't know what a "one percenter" was, Dude responded with the ever classy line "you don't ever want to find out, brother!" At this time, a sheriff showed up and dude suddenly lost his desire to verbally joust with the surprisingly stoic David Crow. Later, we discovered that a "one percenter" was a reference to him being part of an outlaw motorcycle gang. It appears that the term originated from a quote by the American Motorcyclist Association back in the 1940's saying that "99% of motorcyclists were law-abiding citizens, and the last one percent were outlaws." A pretty vague reference that I'm sure this guy was upset that Dave, nor anyone else who was in attendance, understood.
We almost made it through the rest of the game without incident, thanks in large part to the anemic offenses of both the Huskies and the Beavers. The TD's started coming in bunches in overtime however, and that led to a touchdown celebration that separated Garth's shoulder. As he sat there in pain trying to wiggle it back into the socket, this girl behind us kept yelling at me to "find a paramedic!" However, Garth was adamant that he could fix this problem himself, and in a true act of selflessness, didnt't want us to miss any of the action in overtime by going to look for help. Fortunately, he was finally able to get his shoulder set, and no medical assistance was necessary.
There was also a domestic dispute at the tailgate next to us that sadly I missed, but I heard it involved the girl throwing everything out of the guy's truck, him forcibly removing her from the truck, then her yelling "how can you do this? We're pregnant!" Truly sad I missed this show.
Can't wait to do it all again in 2012!
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