I guess that really shouldn’t be a surprise. But I still find it disturbing. John and Steve were our next door neighbors in Albuquerque. Each roamed the city with a conure on his shoulder. Steve’s was a Jenday/Sun cross that he called, appropriately enough, Sunday. John’s conure was a greencheek. The shrill screams of those birds announced John and Steve everywhere they went.

During the First Gulf War (I’m assuming the second is slouching toward reality),