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Watching The Birds, Thinking Of Mating
Jul. 11th, 2005 12:03 pmWell, I look at ducks a lot. And pigeons. And I see a lot of human behaviour in them.
Ducks. They mate for life. I go down to the river, watch this mating pair of ducks. They have their own stretch of river, and every morning, they're there, digging up pond greenery and crusty wriggly things from the bottom.
Then I go to this cafe, and every morning, a couple of old people. They're always sitting there, always in the same corner, always have the same breakfast: sausages, eggs, bacon, cup of tea for two.
If you have that early in life, and it's there throughout life, you're all set - even if, later in life, you find your sex drive's lower than a neutered whelk. You'll have each other.
Now pigeons ... I watch pigeon cocks a lot. They seem to get randy every two months or so: and the hens only seem to ever get randy once a year. Pigeon cocks never seem to be able to figure that out, somehow.
So, you know, you're sitting there watching this pigeon cock going through the motions. He does this thing where he can puff out his chest, neck and the whole back of his head by fluffing out his feathers, and he pursues the hen closely, grooing at her the whole time. She's never interested: off she goes, takes to the sky, and he follows her!
And when they both get back on the ground, off he goes again fluffing up his face and neck, grooing at her, and she looks just like every girl I ever followed. At least, until I caught on and learned to take the opposite approach to chasing women: don't.
But of course, the pigeon cock isn't having any of this learning crap. So there he goes, grooing and puffing up, and I can just about imagine him saying "Hey, baby! Look at this! I can puff out my chest, neck and face to twice their normal size! Let's make pigeon eggs!" She's going "Goddamn it, put that thing back in your trousers and stop stalking me!" and I'm saying "For crap's sake, pigeon, just show off your bloody car!"
Ducks. They mate for life. I go down to the river, watch this mating pair of ducks. They have their own stretch of river, and every morning, they're there, digging up pond greenery and crusty wriggly things from the bottom.
Then I go to this cafe, and every morning, a couple of old people. They're always sitting there, always in the same corner, always have the same breakfast: sausages, eggs, bacon, cup of tea for two.
If you have that early in life, and it's there throughout life, you're all set - even if, later in life, you find your sex drive's lower than a neutered whelk. You'll have each other.
Now pigeons ... I watch pigeon cocks a lot. They seem to get randy every two months or so: and the hens only seem to ever get randy once a year. Pigeon cocks never seem to be able to figure that out, somehow.
So, you know, you're sitting there watching this pigeon cock going through the motions. He does this thing where he can puff out his chest, neck and the whole back of his head by fluffing out his feathers, and he pursues the hen closely, grooing at her the whole time. She's never interested: off she goes, takes to the sky, and he follows her!
And when they both get back on the ground, off he goes again fluffing up his face and neck, grooing at her, and she looks just like every girl I ever followed. At least, until I caught on and learned to take the opposite approach to chasing women: don't.
But of course, the pigeon cock isn't having any of this learning crap. So there he goes, grooing and puffing up, and I can just about imagine him saying "Hey, baby! Look at this! I can puff out my chest, neck and face to twice their normal size! Let's make pigeon eggs!" She's going "Goddamn it, put that thing back in your trousers and stop stalking me!" and I'm saying "For crap's sake, pigeon, just show off your bloody car!"
