What if sports announcers called every day events?
A few years ago my sister Lori thought a bird feeder would me a perfect Mother’s Day gift for our mom.
Lori got that one right because Mom gets hours and hours of enjoyment watching nature unfold in her backyard. The feeder is shaped like a small porch swing, which hangs from a Rose of Sharon that is indestructible.
(The Rose of Sharon, one of my dad’s favorites, has been situated in the same spot since my memory allows. It just won’t die. I cut it back and new branches continue to sprout. The last snowmageddon we had bent the branches beyond 180 degrees to the ground, and yet, after the snow melted, bingo, back to normal.)
The backyard nature preserve was augmented a couple years ago with a bird bath, but, I digress.
My mom’s fascination with the real-time nature documentary out the window is one she’s willing to share, daily. She talks about — and is fascinated with — the “pecking order” of the neighborhood birds (the freeloaders, as I prefer to call them) as they fight for their share of the seed.
That got me to thinking one day … what if out-of-work play-by-play announcers and color commentators called every day, normal things around the neighborhood, so …
— WWE guys calling the activity at the bird feeder.
The curtain rises (the sun’s up) and the ring (the feeder) is already abuzz with tag-team activity. The “chirpers” (wrens and chickadees) attack the ring first, but it’s not coordinated and there’s a lot of in-fighting as they rotate in and out of the ring, not able to get the pin and control of the ring as they consistently tag out.
Wait, there’s a development outside the ring (on the shed roof). The “Coo-ers” (mourning doves) have arrived! The male tags in and the chirpers scatter! The dove takes up the entire feeder, allowing no room for the chirpers to sneak in, but they lurk outside the ring as they glean the seeds on the ground in the meantime. Look out! One of the chirpers sneaked under the ropes and grabbed some feed.
It’s been a quiet afternoon as we approach the dinner hour .. but activity returns with the “Reds” (Mr. & Mrs. Cardinal) taking turns in the ring. The chirpers seem satisfied for a draw, sneaking in a mouthful of seed around the Reds. That is, until the Coo-ers return to mix it up again!
— I’ve been riding my bike almost daily the past month or so. What if veterans Phil Liggett and Bob Roll called my “Visite du quartier,” or Tour of the Neighborhood. (I don’t speak French. I googled an English to French translation thing.)
Phil: Welcome to Day, umm, I don’t know what day it is. It’s just another ride on the course.
Bob: Right you are Phil. We’re not really sure what today’s course entails because Jim Downey doesn’t know when he puts his feet in the stirrups. Because of the “seat-of-his-pants” approach when he sits atop his bike, the course is not closed, meaning he must deal with traffic (automobile and pedestrian/dog/baby buggies), stop signs, and “gutter garbage” (nails, broken glass, tree limbs, mud) that collects along the curb because of recent rains. Today’s course is not expected to include the YRT because Jim doesn’t feel like handling the two-mile round trip to gain access to the trail.
Phil: Today’s conditions are not the optimum for Jim Downey, who prefers warmer temperatures and less breeze. Also, fresh-mown lawns and blowning-around pollen create another layer of breathing issues for today’s feature rider with allergies. He seems to be pushing the same pace as he has the days before, taking advantage on the downhills, pushing the speed as much as he dare with ever-present potholes, collected gravel and traffic, trying to maintain the uphills and pushing the flats ..
Bob: Excuse me Phil, but we have developing story. Our drone coverage (provided by Jim Downey’s imagination) shows a near incident about 30 minutes into today’s course. It seems just as Jim was regaining his cadence after a four-way stop sign, he nearly collided with a pair of squirrels that were chasing one another across the street. He was able to avoid any incident and picked up his speed by the end of the block.
(By the way, the squirrel incident actually happened. I’m picking up speed on a flat stretch of the neighborhood after a four-way stop when, out of nowhere, these two squirrels, siblings I’m guessing, come flying into the street. Without looking both ways, mind you. Where are the parents? I’m doing the physics in my brain and it’s looking like something bad is about to happen with the trail squirrel. However, my brakes slowed my momentum enough and the trail squirrel espied my approach and did an abrupt U-turn to avert a one-bike pileup. A nightmarish situation avoided!)
Phil: Well, that’s the perils of not closing down the course, Bob.
Bob: Phil, looks like today’s portion of the Tour is coming to a close. Let’s dial up the numbers … 8.73 miles (about the general length of the road course) in 46:32 (11.1 mph) .. today’s race had a 549-foot elevation rise.
— That’s today’s observations. I’ll save others (like neighbors cutting the grass and walking with the kids) for a future column with some familiar announcers. Perhaps, Steve Mears and Bob Errey might do a voice-over of The Great British Bake Off and Olympic swimming announcers Dan Hicks and Rowdy Gaines describing the mowing of lawns outside the door.
Jim Downey can be reached at jdowney@heraldstandard.com.