Understanding the ‘regurgitation’ clause

Sean Pearson
Go ahead and mark your calendars now, because I saw this one coming for miles. Bear with me through a few paragraphs of rambling, and I promise it will all make sense in the end.
Trust me.
So, during one of my many cruises down the Homer Spit in recent weeks, I had a bit of an epiphany. (I also had a strange craving for chocolate-flavored Malt-O-Meal, but that’s a different story.)
Anyway, as my epiphany pointed out, this is the time of year when eagles will soon return for their annual free feeding. I’m sure several of them have already begun thinking about it. (That is, they would be thinking about it if they had the cerebral capacity and functional capability to form complex thought patterns and think in terms of future scenarios.) Some may even be already salivating at the thought of fresh, rotting fish heads. (I know I do.)
Only … they’re in for a rude awakening this year.
With no more legal eagle feeding, there really is no more free lunch for some 200-300 eagles on the Homer Spit.
I’ve always felt a special bond with eagles. Except not so much with the “ripping out fish intestines” part, or the meticulous preening over each other. (Hello? No feathers.)
Oh yeah, and I can’t fly.
So maybe it’s not such a special-bond thing. Perhaps it was nothing more than a “Gorillas in the Mist” moment. Still, don’t you think they’re going to be pretty angry at us for not feeding them anymore?
Small rodents, rabbits and other varmint are only going to last so long, people. Am I the only person paranoid enough around here to think that the hunger-crazed raptors might start dive-bombing preschool outings to Mariner Park?
So, during this particular Spit jaunt to check out the sea otters, monitor tsunami evacuation routes and test the “seventh wave” theory, I found my mind wandering a bit. Amidst the soaring eagles, majestic mountains and crashing waves, I began thinking about just what kinds of chaos could truly ensue on the Spit, were it not for Homer City Ordinance No. 5.38.010.
“Don’t feed the birds.”
Seriously people, you have no idea.
Don’t think I haven’t seen you out there, carelessly tossing about pieces of popcorn and old French fries to the crows. I’m shocked at how stealthily some bird-feeding offenders sit in the park on their little park benches and try to hide their bags of breadcrumbs. Sometimes, you will even see young children drawn into this wicked food web, surreptitiously “sharing” minute morsels of Teddy Grahams with hesitant, yet hungry ravens.
These are not your simple, run-of-the-mill, everyday fish-head-feedings of large raptors hauling razor-sharp talons and bearing bright-yellow beaks of brutality.
These are folks who look just like you and me.
Why these feathered-friend food offenders are allowed to continue wandering the streets carelessly dropping crumbs is beyond me. Just think how many crows and ravens have had to suffer a nasty throat irritation from a particularly scratchy breadcrumb. Or worse … how many have actually gone into coughing fits from rogue pieces of popcorn?
Now I’m not suggesting for one minute that we go pull up all the nice signs illustrating the many dangers of bird-feeding. I’m not even ruling out random “day-old bread” pat-downs on the street. My question regarding the bird-feeding issue is actually more of a legal one:
So if I’ve developed a particularly bad case of motion sickness and am forced to puke on the side of the road – (I know that was a pretty brutal segue – my apologies. I just want to be able to complete this one thought before I get distracted again.) – and one of the birds listed on the “No Feeding” signs comes over and begins to feast on the remnants of my breakfast, do I have to turn myself in for feeding the birds? (As per Homer city ordinance No. 5.38.010) Is there a regurgitation clause in there? Maybe there should be one.
I mean, it’s not like I spend all my days heaving all over Homer, but these are still things I worry about.
My wife has often said that I’m very odd in a “weirdly compulsive” way. I like to think of it more as a “refreshing nuance” of my personality.
Then again, I suppose there’s no reason it can’t be both.

Subscribe via RSS

Subscribe via email