The bird that couldn't fly...or wouldn't

I'm going to blame my lack of a blog post yesterday on the fact that I was so engrossed in Hillary Clinton's autobiography that I fell asleep. Hillary is without a question one fascinating lady, but it's best to read her book while sitting up in bed rather than lying down. So you'll get a bonus blog post today. Hooray!

I wanted to blog about a couple things yesterday. First off, I wanted to rant about the St. Patrick's Day festivities that have started here in Philadelphia - a week early. Yes, countless drunken individuals cavorted in the streets yesterday in their green outfits with slogans like, "Drunk Irish Girl". They were all blissfully unaware (I hope) that St. Patrick's Day isn't until March 17th. Moreover, there are actually buses to take these obliterated citizens to their next destination bar. I passed many a partier yesterday yelling complete nonsense at me. Yes, this complete disgust for the St. Patrick's Day proceedings may be a sign that I am, in fact, growing old.

However, that was not the moment I had intended to write about.

Yesterday, I saw quite an unusual sight. Two men were stopped, watching a little bird hop around on the sidewalk. One man kept cupping his hands around the bird, trying to lift the bird up. The bird would flutter a bit in the air, and then would fall. The men genuinely seemed concerned about this bird, and weren't wearing green, so I assumed they were sober. Yet they just kept trying to almost toss the bird in the air, only to have the bird fall back down. I finally suggested that they just leave the bird in peace. They were not happy with that suggestion. They eventually left the bird out of the harm of the foot traffic, and took off. I stayed, watching the bird to see what would happen next. After a few minutes, nothing had happened.

I wondered: Was this bird really not capable of flying? Or did the bird just not want to be pressured into performing in front of an audience?