I’m not a huge sports fan, but, as a male, a certain knowledge of sports is required of me if I’m to maintain membership in good standing in the Guy Club.
My problem these days is this: Summer is here and I should be paying at least a bit of attention to my city’s baseball team, the Seattle Mariners. Unfortunately the Mariners so far have a record of 11-17 and have lost their last six straight games. Sports might be a good form of escapism but when one’s team is as hapless as mine, it becomes necessary to escape the escapism.
Thus (and I'd appreciate it if you don't tell the guys)...uh...I’ve become a bird watcher. There are hummingbirds at a feeder that Leah has hung in a tree outside our living room window and when I have a few free minutes I go outside and watch the aerial show. Only as big as my thumb, the hummers eat like pigs. They dart and dash about like laser beams, intent on feeding, but I've been surprised to see how often the hummers are playing offensive defense, simply trying to keep their brethren from feeding. The pictures I’ve shot of the hummers kind of make them appear to be beautiful, winged miracles of nature -- which they are -- and I’d like to be able to write something here about the hummingbirds being gentle and peaceful creatures.
The truth is that they’re the most aggressive dudes you’ll ever see.
Zzzsssdt: One flashes this way heading for the feeder. Zzzsssdt: Another flashes in, as if to say “that nectar is mine, sucka.”
It occurred to me yesterday after the Mariners lost 8-0 to Tampa Bay that maybe it’s my Guy Club duty to invite the city’s Boys of Summer out to my place to watch hummingbirds (for inspiration, you know?) We can scratch and spit and maybe the team can have a Man Chat about competitiveness.
