Easter 37 and 38; Pigeons redux

5/26

Memorial Day. Supposed to be a day off. But I’m in the office, meeting Pat O and Jerry the contractor who’s in to examine the building once more in order to create his quote for the work we need done. He’s in his old friend RL’s studio, visiting,  when we get there.

We tour the building top to bottom. Literally. Trying to discern all the work we need to do to get out from  under the critical and baleful eye of Department of Buildings scrutiny. Inside, outside,all around the church.

Jerry’s an obvious veteran at this. He tells me some of the churches he’s worked at, including my friend Elise’s Advent up the street and over several years ago. And including stained glass, Tiffany and otherwise. Everytime I do this, I wonder, why? No old building romantic on this tour.

The tour ends. Jerry knows what he needs to know. I’ll claim my half a day off. Head to Citifield to meet my friend Mark K and a doctoral class from Columbia in Georgia. To see the Pirates vs. the Mets. Mark, like me, grew up a Pittsburgh boy. As he’ll tell the class tomorrow, we bleed black and gold.

5/27

Get to the church after going to the UN Church offices to speak to Mark’s visiting doctoral class. With me was Marc G, the director of the Interfaith Assembly on Housing and Homelessness. We were there to talk about interfaith cooperation and collaborative action on social issues. (see #CTSatUN). 

Arrived to learn that RL had spent 45 minutes with his cane chasing an errant pigeon trying to convince it to leave. That sight alone is enough to ponder, but it gets worse. By the time Danielle had arrived, the pigeon had now gotten itself stuck on an anti-mouse glue trap so was no longer the speedy roadrunner character that eluded RL but now more like a battle weary veteran. This now would lead to an impromptu confab between Steve S the porter and David S the handyman which has its own interesting twists and turns as they discussed strategy. The  very thought of having to outsmart pigeons is depressing. 

Most annoying is that it all goes back to the architect with a paper hasmat over his business suit who came in to inspect the tower, albeit with comforting results, who was nevertheless unable to close the hatch in the pigeon tower resulting in a breach in our defense and a reopening of  the territorial battle with the pigeons we believed we had won.  This leaves me with a sinking feeling in my stomach I was unprepared for. I want to fight these battles once.

Pat O’s job today is to create a grid on which we can compare all the various bids we’re getting, apples to apples style. Danielle's job will be to lead the final tours of bidders and fill in the grid. All before writing the grant application for money from the Landmarks Conservancy. Deadline Friday. Not a moment to waste.

Danielle's parents are visiting from Iowa. just a bit early. No problem, they'll go out for coffee while we discuss pigeons. And grant applications. 

Off to Newark to teach my final class of the term at the Newark School of Theology. Another milestone in the year that’s moving all too fast. (http://www.newarkschooloftheology.org/)

Memorial Day: The Circle of protest grows

5/30

Memorial Day. It’s a day for doing work around the house. Yard work. Back home it was the day the swimming pools opened. Danielle and I are at the office, preparing for the week ahead. 

One last renegade pigeon is in the narthex, sitting above the closed door. I open the doors wide, try to shoo the bird out. In typical bird fashion, the pigeon flies back and forth through the narthex, from south to north and back again, completely missing the double open doors a few inches away. Back and forth, back and forth. I use a broom to try and direct the bird. Danielle tries the drum trick. He goes to the floor and sneaks his way back into the tower where I won’t pursue him. The bird’s behavior would be less annoying if it didn’t remind me so much of human behavior. The back and forth, doing the same pointless thing over and over to exhaustion,  missing the open door, the obvious way out, the clear solution. 

Outside, the shopping cart from yesterday has grown into two. One filled with brooms, dust pans etc. and the other with bottles and cans. Now attached to our scaffolding with a chain and bicycle lock. This has got to go. I place a sign on the carts warning that if not removed, we’ll call the police to cut the chain and remove it. 

Danielle’s parents have arrived in the city for a visit. I’ve got work at home to get to. Time to lock up. 

On the way home, back up Columbus, I see Hope waiting for some other pickets in front of Dominos. Soon they have arrived. Very quietly, an exciting movement is growing step by step, restaurant by restaurant. The Chinese and Mexican service workers have found each other and are building an ever stronger  coalition of solidarity. Formerly intimidated immigrant workers, emboldened by the action of others, are beginning to speak up. And as the rejection of sweatshop practices spreads, so do the number of businesses signing the fair labor pledge. The dream of creating a sweatshop free zone in our neighborhood moves closer to reality.  It all began with the Saigon Grill workers. The circle of protest grows. 

Dead birds and Dutch visitors

5/27

On the way home after dark. Starting to feel like summer on the streets. People just hanging out. An eccentric white guy in baggy cargo shorts, a Hawaiian shirt and sideways cap is walking down the street, singing in  loud voice.  In front of the projects two black guys come out and join him. Now they’re jamming. Singing harmonies. Impromptu doo wop concert.

5/28

Couldn’t put it off any longer. We have to go into the south tower. Deal with pigeons. I put on a face mask, keep my hat on to keep them out of my hair. White plastic gloves. I have a thought. Grab a drum.  We open the door, start banging on the drum. There are at least three pigeons fluttering around. They can’t seem to find their way out. There’s a reason for the expression birdbrain. Finally they fly out. 

I enter the room, scooping up dead pigeons. Last time I did this, didn’t think I’d have to do it again.  Danielle holding the bag. Find three. Then climb up the ladder to pull the hatch back down to keep them out. Danielle reminds me to tie the rope tight. Feel like we’ve won a battle, not the war. But pushed back the frontier some. They won’t be aimlessly wandering around the office anymore. 

Two tourists have come in. From Utrecht in the Netherlands. I give them a quick sanctuary tour as they snap pictures. Talk about my good friends from Holland, Romelia and Arjan now in Peru.  I give them some neighborhood tips, recommend the Boat Basin Cafe for a late afternoon stop.

Jane drops by for a conversation. A man from an opera company comes in looking for a performance space for a September concert to honor their late producer/director.  I leave the opera man with Danielle and head to Popover’s with Jane. It’s clear we’re going to work together. What is it going to be? Need to get something planned for fall.  And in the meantime, keep the conversation going.

Danielle and I finish the paperwork to prove the drain pipe leader situation has been corrected. She’s amazed at what her work includes on any given day.  Dead birds and Dutch visitors. Drain pipes and opera. A good day.