Red Robin

I took a walk to Spot Pond last week and it was still frozen over. The ice was beautiful to look at, deadly to walk on. I brought my camera with me hoping a photographic opportunity would arise.

A tangle of black tree branches formed a criss-cross pattern against the washed-out gray sky. As I focused my camera on the branches, I saw a speck of color in the middle of the dark design high above the ground. A shock of color in the twisted tree limbs revealed the first robin of the season.

My camera zoomed in on the robin. It was shivering in the cold. Its eyes were dull and lifeless. A chilling wind blew off the water and rocked the branches of the tree. The robin's feet grasped the branch tightly as it bobbed in the breeze. I snapped a quick photo and wondered if I captured the moment. The robin darted away in search of its own first sign of spring.

A few days later, I left my house for an early morning walk. The sun was out but it was still cold. Standing on my straw-colored lawn was a robin, looking curiously at me. It could have been the same one from Spot Pond. This time it brought the sunshine with it. It cocked its head and pecked at the hard dirt. It was not going to find any food here today. Its red breast looked brighter than it did at the pond. A good sign, I thought. It hopped away, hoping the next lawn would yield something nourishing.
The next day I took a walk to the Mobil station to buy a newspaper. The weather was once again unseasonably cold. On the way home, a bird swooped down from the tree behind me. I saw a flash of red and recognized my robin. It flew from tree to tree above my head, continuing its flight in the same direction I was walking in. I found it odd to have this many encounters with the same bird in such a short time.

My street was just up ahead. The robin looked down from the tree on the corner, chirping in agitation. I continued on my way while the bird chirped louder. I sensed it wanted me to follow. I changed my route taking a right turn instead of a left. The bird quieted down and flew on ahead. I followed it down Fairview Street as it flew from tree to tree in the direction of Spot Pond.

I reached a clearing to the pond as the robin hopped from bush to bush, leading me on a mysterious quest. I walked down to the water and journeyed into the thick underbrush, twigs snapping as I tried to follow some sort of path. Another robin joined the one I followed. Together they led me deeper into the woods. Another robin joined the two in front of me – then another and another. Now five or six more flew down the path, all of them chirping in exhilarated song. I should have been afraid, or afraid of getting lost, but I wasn't. The robins’ red markings flashed like scarlet beacons through the gray-brown trees.

I walked through the bushes into a small clearing. The noise was deafening as hundreds of robins converged before me in a sea of crimson. They lined the trees and bushes all around me, surrounding me in song. The flittering flock filled every empty spot on the branches and bushes. In a mass of motion they cocked their heads and bobbed up and down. A sea of black eyes blinked as beaks opened and closed wildly while they screeched.

The robin that led me there flapped above my head just out of reach. It hovered above me as I stood motionless, staring at the congregation of birds in front of me.
Following an invisible command, the birds lifted from their perches in one swift motion. I was engulfed by flapping wings as the flock rushed toward me. I was caught in their feathery vortex, spinning around in a sea of eyes, beaks and wings. I was encased in a red-orange blur as the birds raced forward like one huge living organism. I was whipped around by the wind from a thousand beating wings. The twittering tornado of robins spun around me faster and faster until I could no longer see the woods or water.

I stood trapped in the middle of the whirling birds but there was calm in the eye of the storm. Instead of fear I was filled with joy. Instead of dread I was filled with hope. All at once, the throng of birds lifted to the sky, leaving me alone in the clearing with the settling dust. As the chirping birds faded beyond the gray horizon, I found myself looking forward to the future. Maybe spring is coming this year after all.

About Face(book)

Faster than an instant message, www.Facebook.com has become the latest internet sensation. I didn’t know what Facebook.com was until I created an account at the urging of a co-worker. I didn’t even know I needed a social networking web site.
“You’ve got to try it,” said my co-worker. “Once you sign up you’ll be hooked.”
“What exactly is the site about?” I asked.
“Facebook puts you instantly in touch with everyone you’ve ever known,” she said.
“And that’s a good thing?” I said.

I signed up for my free account to see what all the hype was about. Facebook allows you to create an online profile, complete with your photo and much more information than you should ever divulge online. I created my page and waited to see what would happen next.

You need to enter your email address when you register. Facebook then takes your personal contact list and lets you know which people in your address book are members of Facebook. Chances are quite a few people on your list already have joined the site. If you add their name to your “friends” list, Facebook sends that person a message asking them to “approve” being added to your list, or the recipient can reject your request to befriend them. It’s like the grammar school playground all over again.

I added a few co-workers to my “friends” list. Thankfully they all accepted my invitation. Photos of their smiling faces appear at the bottom of my Facebook home page.

This is where it gets complicated. If I click on a “friend’s” photo, the link takes me to their page and shows me a list of their friends. I felt I was invading their privacy, but curiosity got the better of me and I wanted to see who knew whom, and who put whom on their list. The funny quips under the photos were clever and gave me an insight into their lives I didn’t really need to know.

I followed a link to my coworker’s page because Facebook told me we had friends in common. There were photos posted of “John” with his friend at a bar having a wild guys night out.

I saw “John” the next morning and asked him how his night out was. “John” was taken aback.
“How did you know I went out last night?” he asked.
“It’s all over Facebook. Photos and everything,” I said. I had officially become part of a new way to communicate.

The next time I logged on to Facebook.com, I was besieged with “friend” requests from people I had not heard from in quite some time. A couple of requests came from people I could barely remember even from their headshot photos. People from the neighborhood where I grew up were leaving messages on my page. Their old photos brought back many happy memories. Current photos of their families were equally interesting. There is also a discussion board for Facebook members who went to my grammar school. Names I recognized from long ago were posting snippets of their experiences at the school and sharing tales of teachers we had in common.

Facebook takes the antiquated America Online service one step further. If you were an AOL member, you could search for people you knew, but they had to be a member of AOL for you to contact them. Facebook’s information-grabbing tentacles connect you to anyone you know who has a computer. The sheer scope of its reach is overwhelming.

And now I’m collecting friends like Pokemon cards. I’m trying to be discretionary and only choose people I have a close bond with. Some people on Facebook are just trying to pump up their number of friend’s for sheer volume to show how popular they are. It’s interesting that in a society where people feel so disconnected from one another, Facebook is creating one huge connected community. Facebook lets the world see our smiling faces and read our happy little comments no matter what is really going on in our lives. Everything is beautiful in it’s own electronically distorted way.

If you decide to join, remember there are some unwritten rules about Facebook. Don’t type in your children’s names unless you are prepared for a glimpse into their private world. And don’t ever post a message on their home page in case their friends read it. It could cause extreme embarrassment in the social network circle.

For now, I’m happy being contacted by grammar school girlfriends and displaced co-workers. There are people on the site looking for long lost relatives. Businesses are creating pages for advertising purposes. The potential is unlimited.

The ubiquitous Facebook craze may not last forever. According to my children, now that the baby-boomers have infiltrated the site, it is no longer hip. The kids migrated to Facebook when MySpace.com became too mainstream. I guess youngsters are just going to have to accept us old folks as part of their community, or they will have to move on to the next big thing in computer social networking: see www.Twitter.com (which I am still trying to figure out).

Check out Facebook.com if you have internet access. You might be surprised at whom you find – or who finds you.

Death of the Daily Planet

by Clark Kent guest reporter

Newspapers across the country are closing their doors at an alarming rate. Today, the final edition of my own beloved Daily Planet has gone to press. For the past seventy years this Metropolis newspaper has informed and entertained us. Decreased circulation combined with an ever-expanding internet presence has forced the newspaper industry to adjust or die. And most newspapers are dying.
The Daily Planet strove to remain relevant in a world besieged by instant information outlets. Television, the web and even cell phone news services supply their audience with news as it happens. No matter how fast the Daily Planet could print a story, it always seemed a day behind.
Escalating paper and fuel prices as well as environmental concerns were also factors in the closing of this media landmark.
I noticed acceleration in the newspaper’s decline when my editor, Perry White, began outsourcing stories from a generic wire service. The newspaper saved money, but without any local stories its circulation began dropping rapidly. With sales dwindling at the newsstand, advertisers cancelled long-term contracts deeply cutting into revenue the newspaper needed to continue operating.
Several of our big name reporters left for other venues. Lois Lane jumped ship and is working for the Daily Bugle, where her column appears only online. The Daily Bugle is also in the midst of severe employee layoffs as well. Peter Parker, the famous local photographer, was in the Daily Planet's office last week trying to sell photos to the city desk but there was no money in the budget for freelancers. Our own senior reporter, Jimmy Olsen, took a buyout package last month. He now works at Home Depot in the paint department during the day. He works nights in the Stop & Shop deli to help make ends meet.
Most people do not realize how valuable newspapers are. A newspaper is much more than an overview of current events. A newspaper has a distinct voice. Newspapers offer points of view driven by the people who produce it. Newspapers are a tool for checking everything from the weather to movie reviews. If you want to buy a car or rent an apartment, all the information you need is in the palm of your hand in glorious black and white.
Sure you can find information on the web but you never know the source. The web offers many versions of the truth. Anything can be posted on the web by anybody. And everybody instantly believes it. No witnesses, no corroboration needed. The internet is the gospel our younger generation blindly follows.
Newspapers give people another side of the story. There is nowhere to turn for another opinion. Newspapers have been a key source of information for the general public since the revolutionary war. They are equally important to preserving our freedom today – Freedom from government control, freedom of expression, freedom of the press. If society lets these little freedoms slip away, soon there is no freedom left.
Please support your local newspaper any way you can. Write letters to the editor. Send in stories about events in your town. Advertise your local business. Discuss newspaper stories with your children.
The future is in your hands with this newspaper you are holding. Don’t let such a valuable resource become extinct. Don’t let newspapers become another casualty of the information superhighway. Unlike the web, newspapers make a commitment to verify the truth in what they print. For that reason alone, it is in our best interest to keep newspapers around as long as possible.
Take it from me, Clark Kent: observer, reporter, concerned citizen, freedom fighter. I am a big supporter of truth, justice and the American way. I want to preserve these beliefs for all people well into the future.