Buzzards

The roof of our condo has become a roost for buzzards. At first, I thought they were hawks, but when I went outside for a closer look (with the binoculars usually reserved for spying on neighbors, I mean bird-watching) I realized they were buzzards. There's no mistaking buzzards. They have faces only a mother could love.

So the other day--Thursday to be exact--I went to the local library to meet with my once-a-month writing group. The usual drill is that the woman who leads the group suggests a topic on which we all write for 20 minutes. This week's suggestion was to write a letter to someone, or something, as a way of getting something off our chests. In other words, something with cathartic possibilities. Here's what I came up with:

Dear Citizens of the World:

Where has civility gone? Why can't more of us be civil to each other? Why must some of you cut me off in the traffic? Are you in such a hurry you can't give me a break and just let me merge in? And why must you follow me so closely? Do you really think I'm going to go faster just to accommodate your schedule?

And what about behavior in the grocery store? Do you see that sign saying "10 items or less?" You must have at least 20. I have a bottle of milk and a head of lettuce and I must wait behind you because I follow the rules. And maybe you could move your cart over to the side of the aisle while you browse for that can of tomatoes so I can get around you without having to move it myself? And must you push your cart up so far that, when I'm done bagging my own groceries, I can't get to the card machine to push the buttons?

And what about the unruliness of children in restaurants? Must some of you parents let your children run wild? Can't you teach them about inside and outside voices?

And then there's the subject of litter. Can't you save that gum wrapper or cigarette butt till you get where you're going and throw it away there rather than tossing it out your car window? And why not pick up a piece of litter that isn't yours now and then? Do a little something for the environment.

And cell phone users. Please! Must you walk around the store chatting loudly to your friends about things I'd rather not hear? Or sit next to me on an airplane and call everyone you know to tell them we haven't taken off yet? And then there's texting. Everyone seems to be texting--and making me dodge them on the sidewalk as they approach without watching where they're going.

And then there are those stickers on the newspaper. Don't get me started on stickers! Must I peel one off of each and every piece of fruit I eat? And what about packaging? Must I risk serious injury while I try to open the aspirin or the salad dressing? What about old people with arthritis? They can't get into their medication without having a more able-bodied buddy handy. Who is in charge of all this stuff that makes so little sense?

Well, I certainly feel better now. And the buzzards are gone--probably off to find their next meal. Come to think of it, I'm feeling a little hungry myself. Thanks for listening....