An Open Letter to the Parrot Whose Owners Are Clearly Far Too Wealthy

Look, I don’t mean any disrespect parrot.  I’ve yet to deeply offend a bird of any kind, really.  Except for a turkey with a sassy tone once, but he was really asking for it.

Well, I was walking home after a show the other day and I happened to spot you sitting on your elaborate perch in a second floor room with classy bay windows which was possibly filled with other small, bird-shaped furniture customized perfectly for you.  When I caught you in the corner of my eye, you were leisurly resting and staring at a flashing light coming from the opposite wall.  As I took a closer look, I discovered that you were watching television.  That’s right.  I caught you, a fucking bird, watching your very own TV.  And not just some tiny Magnivox, wood-paneled crummy TV sitting on a pushcart.  Oh no, you had your own god damn flat-screen.  A wall-mounted flat-screen!  Someone took the extra effort to adhere that expensive, 30-something inch television just for you.  And it has to be just for you, because there was nothing in the room which a person could sit in.

At this point, I would often feel compelled to go on about how the world is suffering, people around the world are starving, povery reigns supreme, and recession looms over our nation like a pedophile at a Chuck-E-Cheese birthday party, and here you are, a stupid parrot, with your own television so you can watch re-runs of Lost.  I mean, I would hardly have been surprised to move for a closer look only to see that you had your own servant man.  Or possibly an iPhone hung from the ceiling so you can make phone calls to other pet birds and brag about your flat-screen. But I’m not going to go on about how your situation is a polar-opposite representation of how our world is superbly unfair.  No.  The reason I’m writing this is to let you know that I’m forming a posse of birds to come beat you up.  I just wanted to give you fair warning is all.

Fucking parrot.

Bitterly yours,

Ben