Onegin Off Again

Eugene the typopigeon is winging his way to his next destination: stay turned for his further adventures.

A little birdy says that he's wanted and welcomed in Australia. Perhaps a trip across the Pacific is in his near future? Can one kickstart-fund a pigeon delivery? How does one begin to declare this sort of thing on a customs form ("Contents: One well-traveled squab, plastic. Charming.")

Pinpigeon

Eugene the Typopigeon's visit is drawing to a close. To celebrate the nearly-simultaneous birthdays of my daughter and father, the family -- and Eugene -- made what's becoming an annual trek into Alameda to the Pacific Pinball Museum.

Eugene was entranced by the lights and activity, though we had to work on his etiquette a bit...


Kind of blocking the view there, buddy...



Barely better

Luckily, the PPM is very family- and flock-friendly, and offers numerous stools to boost up the vertically-challenged players. He was intrigued by the promise of "Slick Chicks", though I had to break the news that these chicks were of the non-Playboy-infringing sort, not the feathered type.


Resisting the urge to make a "stool pigeon" joke here.

You may notice Eugene is sporting a new fashion item: a red-and-black scarf patterned after a typewriter ribbon. My girls were concerned that the cooler Bayside temps might ruffle his feathers, and insisted he be dressed correctly. This seems about as reasonable a transition as I can muster for taking a picture of him atop the Dr. Who machine, his preferred perch location for maximum heckling.


Eugene having a Fourth-Doctor scarf moment

He enjoyed the day immensely (as did the human members of our party) and I'm sure Eugene will always be welcome in this palace of the silver ball.

Turf and Surf with the Typopigeon

As threatened, the temperatures today were what I call one hundred and stupid outside. We're generally spoiled in this part of California because we lack the smothering summertime humidity of other parts of the country, such as those where I grew up. Still adapted to the dry Arizona climate, though, Eugene did as the natives do, which is to cower inside behind heavy curtained windows and try to keep cool.

My youngest made off with him to read him a number of books, but soon they both appeared and requested that I dig out the marble-run game, a favorite indoor activity. Eugene quickly found himself in the middle of things...




Eventually, though, our thoughts turned to fresh air and sunshine, and so, properly sunscreened and be-toweled, we headed off to a neighborhood pool. He quickly made friends with the natives...



...and then enjoyed a fine afternoon in the water. I don't know if pigeons are natural swimmers, but Eugene took to the water like a pro, showing us all his "hang six" surf technique.

Eugene Onegin, Bird About Town

(For Adney the Younger)

Noble typopigeon Eugene is settling in nicely for his visit to Northern California. Today he accompanied me on my regular Friday lunchtime trip to the local branch of the library.

Concord, California is home to Dave Brubeck, honorary typospherian Tom Hanks, and is a sister city with Kitakami, Japan. We did go past "Brubeck Park" on the way to the library, and Eugene nobly volunteered to represent Mr. Hanks and the rest of the typewriter crowd as we paused at the small garden outside the library.





We paused briefly, I should say, as we're entering one of those weeks where temperatures shoot up into triple digits. We retreated indoors to bask in air-conditioned comfort and check out the selections. Eugene made himself at home...



...and settled in with some light reading while I scoped out the CDs.



Today's selection was an Erik Satie compilation, something to mellow out with at the end of a busy week. Eugene had a few problems with my noise-cancelling headphones, and neither of us were entirely clear on where a pigeons' ears are actually located. This, however, did not seem correct.



A little quick Google-fu got us sorted out, though, and with the aid of some office supplies, Eugene was soon able to enjoy the lyricism of Satie, as realized by Reinbert de Leeuw.



Personally, I find Satie rather sad, and I suppose it had a similar effect on Eugene, so far from home. Clearly he is a creature of the wind, and even a glass-walled cage is not the same as feeling the breeze flowing beneath your flight feathers, or finding a half-eaten hot dog next to the sidewalk. (I cannot deny Eugene's urban tendencies.)



What was he thinking of? He wouldn't say, maintaining his usual stoic silence. Daydreaming about Japan, perhaps, or simply thinking about that book ("What makes owls so amazing?")

Tomorrow is Saturday, though, and both Eugene and I are released from office obligations for a few days.  I know my youngest is already making plans.

Mr. Adney Flips Me the Bird

After a circuitous route from Magic Margin HQ the infamous bird has arrived at last. I cannot begin to tell you the joy that the arrival of this creature has brought to my home, not to mention the many postal workers who sped it on its way, and the lucky driver who wedged it in our curbside mailbox. No worse the wear for his travels, I need to now extract him from his shell of packing tape to reveal the letter beneath. I have to confess that I didn't expect him to arrive au naturale. Hardworking hands at Clickthing Industries are already engaged, planning accessories.

Stay tuned for the NorCal adventures of Eugene Onegin, though I expect this savvy typo-traveler may adopt an alias during his visit. I suggested "Hunter Peck," which got me booed and shooed out of the kitchen. I can't imagine why.