The Oppenheimer Report 11/26/18

When I was a kid, I used to think bird watching was completely uncool. In my mind, bird watchers were unusual, asocial people who wore safari clothes and French Army tropical pith helmets, with a pair of giant binoculars hanging around their necks. I felt the same way about birdwatching as I did about baseball, fishing, and golf: I thought it was as boring as watching the grass grow. In my teens I had a high school teacher who was a member of the Sierra Club, and we used to make fun of old Neil, because he fit the image of the prototypical bird watcher. Turns out Neil was a pretty interesting guy after all. I also remember a strange experience I had when I was living in Dublin. I walked into a pub one day in one of the rougher sections of Dublin, and everyone at the bar was quietly watching a nature program about birds. You could have heard a pin drop in that pub as the narrator on television went on about the Ruby-Throated Cornholer ... well some bird anyway. I just never “got” bird watching until Shauna and I began to spend a lot of time out west in Banff.

I’m not exactly sure when I became a convert, but there was a bird that visited us every year at the Douglas Fir where we stayed in Banff, and he/she became our companion. He was a Clark’s Nutcracker, and we called him "Broke Toe", so named because he was missing half a claw. Shauna really bonded with this little guy, and he came back to visit us year after year. He’d be on our balcony every morning when we woke up. Unlike other Clark’s Nutcrackers, who have a terrible, grating song, Broke Toe never made a peep. As we began to observe his behavior, it became apparent that he was intelligent and had a distinct personality. We began to read up on these birds, and discovered they were really quite remarkable animals for a number of reasons. As an example, apparently Clark’s Nutcrackers will store food in many different places, miles apart, and they can remember where every stash is. Broke Toe was not the most attractive bird by any stretch of the imagination. Magpies are much more beautiful, and the Gray Jays have a  prettier song, but Broke Toe was special, and he was my first hint that all birds were intelligent creatures. Because of Broke Toe, we began to pay attention to other birds, and the more we learned – mind you, we are not fanatic birders – the more interested we became.

I remember speaking with Andre Wahl during one of my recording sessions with him, and we got on the subject of crows. Apparently, singer songwriter Brock Zeman, of whom I am a big fan, is very interested in crows, and studies their behavior. Crows are apparently very intelligent birds, and I recall seeing a video once of a crow learning a complicated set of actions in order to receive a morsel of food. All my life I’d presumed all birds are stupid, but this is just one more humbling reminder of how little I know.

Yesterday I was surfing on Facebook, and ended up on the page of a drummer friend of mine who is also an excellent photographer. On his page was a photograph (I don't think it was one of his) of a fascinating and very funny-looking bird called a Chukar Partridge. When I clicked on the picture to get a larger image, there was a link to a Facebook Page entitled simply “Birds” and wow! I heartily recommend that you check out that page if you are on Facebook. Give it a “like” and look at some of the photos and videos. I have never seen so many wonderful, spectacular, exotic, colorful birds. It seems the older I get the more I’m paying attention to the miracle of Mother Earth. If I’ve learned anything in my 63 years, it is to appreciate what I once ignored. No matter how we try, we will never win the war we have waged with Mother Nature. Long after we lemmings, led by the myopic Orange Emperor, have jumped off the cliff, the Ruby-Throated Cornholer will likely be soaring peacefully over the empty landscape, oblivious to the fact that its greatest threat has disappeared. 

- Written by Jamie Oppenheimer c 2018 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED