
Refrigerator Copy
Column published the week of September 17,
2007 www.theleeonline.com © 2007, Lee Ostaszewski
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Bird Brain, But in a |
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By Lee
Ostaszewski I hate to bring everyone down with bad
news, but I have something to share if you haven’t already heard. This one is hard to take. Still, as tough as it is for us; imagine
how sad a day it was for members of the scientific community when word got around
that one of the great contributors to scientific research of all time, Alex
the Parrot, unexpectedly died. I think the headline used by MSNBC
summed it up best, “Gifted research parrot Alex found dead.” That’s
right, not only was Alex a research parrot, but a gifted one as well. How gifted, you ask? Well, among the parrot community, Alex was
like Einstein, only with more feathers and no accent. Not only could Alex, an African gray
parrot, count to six, recognize shapes and colors, and identify more than 50 different
objects - putting him well ahead of Paris Hilton - but he was an accomplished
accordion player as well. OK, I made the accordion player part
up. But that doesn’t lessen the
heartwarming feeling one gets after hearing his story and realizing that
during Alex’s lifetime, and he lived to be 31, that this amazing bird
probably applied for, and received, more federal research grant money than
you or I ever will. Actually, Alex’s lab were he lived and
worked was located right here in According to the Tribune story Pepperberg has two younger parrots, While I’m not suggesting they were
jealous of Alex’s success, I’ve watched enough cop shows to know that should
Alex’s death be ruled foul play (get it?) authorities need to look closely at
these two parrots as possible suspects.
I’m not saying |
that
they had motive. Regardless of the circumstances
surrounding Alex’s demise, the important point is that his life helped show us
that birds, despite popular belief, are not as stupid as we generally assume
they are. And certainly not as stupid
as, say, the woodpecker that kept attacking the gutter on my house last
spring. Perhaps some other avian brain
researcher at some other university has a woodpecker speaking Latin and doing
algebra, but the particular woodpecker banging on my house had the approximate
IQ level of shaving cream. For two weeks the bird would spend long
hours every day sitting on the gutter rapping it’s beak against it, sending a
loud, metallic sound reverberating throughout the house as if someone was
jack hammering through the roof. Now, in the animal kingdom, banging your
head repeatedly against any hard object for whatever reason is usually a sign
of low intelligence. I don’t care if
that is how the woodpecker evolved. If
so, then it’s a case of stupid evolution.
Just because something works and is extremely successful doesn’t mean
it can’t also be dumb. Paris Hilton is
a perfect example. Anyway, my sons, Kevin and Chris, where
on the computer together one morning the first time they heard the woodpecker
attacking our gutter and they were both startled. Kevin ran out of the room thinking the
furnace was exploding, but Chris said later that he thought it was just Kevin,
ummm, you know, “letting one rip” so to speak. This is why when we are in public now and
one of us accidentally “releases steam” in a highly audible fashion, I’ll
look around innocently and remark, “Oh, I think I hear the woodpecker.” Kevin and Chris usually laugh at this; my
wife, Beth, not so much. Just because
evolution has brought the male to a point where we universally enjoy a good
joke about embarrassing bodily noises, any woman will tell you that it’s
still really immature. Yet, I bet you if Alex were alive, being
a guy parrot and all, he would have fallen off his perch laughing so hard. ■ |