If reincarnation is real I want to come back as a bird. Wouldn’t that be amazing?
True, I’m not thrilled with the prospect of eating worms or insects. And the worst off are woodpeckers. They repeatedly bang their heads against trees. For what? Getting insects to eat. That’s what. But, apart from that, being reincarnated as a bird would be incredible.
Flap your wings or catch a thermal and take in broad vistas in a single glance. If you feel like getting away for the weekend, just do it. And if you go for an extended flight during your lunch hour, you don’t have to worry about your boss docking you pay when you get back.
As winter approaches and the weather turns cold, fly south1 without having to deal with abuse from airlines. Forget about aggravating security queues at the airport. And if you cross borders, no one will scowl at you and demand to see your passport. Nor will they ask if you are carrying any foodstuffs, how long you plan to stay, and what you plan to do while there. Just go and enjoy yourself.
But that wouldn’t be the best part of being reincarnated as a bird. The best part would be that you can crap on anyone you please, pretty much with impunity. Oh, sure. Some people threaten to shoot the next bird that does it to them, but how many follow through? Hardly any.
You probably think birds don’t intentionally target specific people. I’m not so certain. If it happens to you, you likely did something to piss them off. Did you put up a bird feeder, but forget to keep it filled? Bombs away! Did you sic your dog on a finch foraging in a field? The flying squadron is on its way!
Reincarnation for Sport
Then again, maybe it’s not revenge. Maybe it’s sport.
I imagine the following conversation between a robin and a blackbird.
“I’ve got five worms that say you can’t land a big white one on the shoulders of the guy in the blue pinstripe suit,” says the robin. “I’ll make it fifteen if you can drop it so hard that it bounces off his shoulder and hits his wife in her face.”
The blackbird lets one fly.
“Damn!,” cries the robin. “Do you know how hard I worked to get those 15 worms? Those buggers put up quite a struggle, that’s for sure.”
“You shouldn’t bet if you’re not willing to lose,” responds the blackbird. “I’ve got one for you. See that baby wearing the pink booties? I’ll let you keep your earthworms and give you five of my own if you can hit the white pom-pom on one of the booties. Make it the left one and I’ll up it to ten worms.”
The robin makes a direct hit and cries out, “Am I hot shit or what?”
Yeah, it would be great to be a bird and fire crap at whoever you please without anyone calling you a sociopath. That’s exactly what I want to do if I come back as a bird because I already have some targets in mind. For me, it won’t be sport. It’ll be revenge.
Reincarnation for Revenge
I’m retired. For the last 30 or so years of my career I was self-employed. During that time, most of my clients were fabulous. A couple of them, however, not so much. Not so much times 1,000. They’d make for good avian target practice if they’re still around after I come back as a bird.
And earlier in my career, when I was an employee of others, most of my bosses were pretty good. But there were a couple that, if they outlive me, I’d like to hit with some healthy dollops of organic Wite-Out2.
And I don’t think I could generate enough excrement to pay back all of the telemarketers and customer disservice representatives I’ve had to put up with over the course of my life. Nevertheless, none of them would be number one on my hit list.
No, at the top of my list is my grade one teacher. She made me parade up and down the rows of desks showing the other six-year-olds an example of bad printing. Seriously. That was more than 60 years ago now and I still haven’t forgiven her.
The first thing I’m going to do after coming back as a bird is to find out what she was reincarnated as, hunt her down, eat as big a meal as my little belly will allow, and then drop the big one on her. To hell with Karma. I want revenge. If that means that in my next life after being a bird I’ll be a cockroach, so be it.
(Then again, maybe during my time as a bird she’ll come back as a worm or insect. This would raise another set of possibilities.)
If reincarnation is real and I can be reincarnated as a member of a flying species my only regret would be that pterosaurs are extinct. They varied greatly in size, but some of those winged reptiles were huge. A few pterosaur species had wingspans wider than 40-feet. Some of the bigger ones are thought to have had wingspans greater than 50 feet, and possibly more than 60. Imagine the payloads they could have dropped! We’re talking serious revenge.
- I live in the northern hemisphere. Toronto, Canada, to be specific. Winters can be cold and snowy. Thus, occasionally going south to escape winter is appealing to me. If you live in the high latitudes of the southern hemisphere, please substitute “north” for “south” here. And if you live in a latitude that’s warm all year round, please keep that information to yourself. I don’t want to hear it. It’s winter here now as I post these words.
- The boss who treated me the worst was me. But I make an exception for myself.