The effects of gentrification are taking their toll on my Oakland neighborhood, with the most recent intrusion developing within the bird population. We’ve grown accustomed to our ragtag pigeons, scavenging lake gulls, and black-crowned herons who scream, cackle, and squawk into the night. Their birdy cacophony entwines with the discordant howls of the local vagrants. These birds are not the most elegant or ideal as far as fowl demographics go, but they’re OURS.
Suddenly a new feathered tourist has come to town. A fair-weather opportunist. A songbird. Turdus migratorius be his name, also known as the American Robin. His wearisome song consists of a single repetitive, maddening note that he broadcasts ad nauseum ALL NIGHT LONG. And also, ALL DAY. His tirelessness and arrogance are an affront to the local bird residents. He lazily roosts in one tree morning and night, sipping his $5 soy latte while displacing the scrounger birds who are indispensable for pecking the previous night’s vomit off the sidewalks as if it’s a delicacy. I will look into the zoning laws in this area, but I’m open to suggestions. I’m considering organizing a collective nonviolent direct action to pressure this bird out.
Sample the soundtrack: