Oh Lort, y’all. It’s been a week.
I don’t usually tend to go on political rants to the length I did Friday. But I did. So. That was a thing. Other than that, we’re well into January. Two columns on tiny, magnificent moments have come and gone.
One was about my daughters. The other was about foxes. I wasn’t sure what I was going to write about this month, and when I settled on this topic it didn’t feel like one I knew my way around or could really rely on a months worth of material to present itself for. But, here we are. And I’m more than likely going to round the month out with a column about this interview.
I’ll tell you, it feels like it’s either feast or famine at work sometimes. I got goosebumps the minute Ted revealed that he wasn’t just a humanitarian, but that he’d been racist before going to Haiti. Where I live, people either tend not to admit something like that about themselves, or they’re too egotistical to be ashamed, and they’re actually still racist and proud of it.
It’s unfortunate. But true. It was beyond my pleasure to write about Ted. Ted’s my people. Ted kicks ass.
Anyhow. So. Foxes.
I love crows. Love them everything about them. They’re brilliant birds. Very intelligent. I’ve always been a fan. I remember my grandfather telling me stories about having a pet crow that had imprinted on him. He and his sister, my Aunt Marlene, who confirms the story, both had one. His would fly him back and forth to school. Marlene’s, sadly, was a bit of a neighborhood troublemaker. While she can’t prove it she’s pretty sure that the neighbor shot her crow for its bad habit of taking the woman’s laundry off the line.
Which is sad. I hate to see anything get shot for any reason other than responsible hunting with the intent of eating whatever it is a person kills. I can’t stand the idea of trapping, either. But to know that people shoot crows bums me out. They’re so much more than people give them credit for.
I suppose I identify as much with the crow as I do with the fox. I’m soft for both, really.
Here’s an excellent documentary on crows I was reminded of this weekend in a lovely little online tribe to which I belong.
Its worth the watch if you’ve never seen it. Crows, man. The New Caledonian crow, particularly, blows my noodle. It’s outrageous.
Give crows some respect, next time you come across them. They’re more like you than you may realize.
And now? Wine. And Black Mirror.
And if I finish that, maybe I’ll queue up my TV husband and watch some of his show until I fall asleep.
Rod Serling. My TV husband is Rod Serling.
This should not surprise you in any way.