There\u2019s a story behind those boxes of birdseed at your local\npet store. Someone with a deft hand mixed different seeds into a curated blend\ndesigned to satisfy a bird\u2019s deepest culinary desires. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
That someone was me.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Looking for a summer job during high school, I spotted a\n\u201cHelp Wanted\u201d sign on a pet shop window. After a short interview with the owner,\nwe had an even shorter conversation about my duties. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
I was to stay away from tropical fish, puppies, guppies,\ncats, rats and customers. After that, I could scarcely wait to hear what my\nduties might be. The answer came quickly. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
I was to make birdseed for parakeets, canaries and finches.\nKind of like a celebrity chef, <\/p>\n\n\n\n
I thought, only without the toque. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
This process began by opening a bunch of flattened boxes,\nrubber cementing the bottoms, waiting for them to dry and then filling them.\nThen I was to empty large sacks of seeds into a huge galvanized garbage can,\nmix them with an industrial-size scoop and fill the boxes. How simple was that?<\/p>\n\n\n\n
All this was to be done in the dark recesses at the back of\nthe store. What I wasn\u2019t told, however, was that the owners\u2019 son, David, would\nbe constantly watching me from different corners of this gloomy area. David was\na young man of limited capabilities and wore his Cubs cap sideways. He wasn\u2019t\nespecially social, so we settled into a nodding relationship. That was fine\nwith me as I was there to make birdseed, not friends. But I did keep an eye\npeeled for him, as he had a penchant for suddenly appearing out of nowhere and\nmaking my hair stand on end. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
Birdseed making turned out to be an unfortunate career\nchoice, however, as I\u2019m allergic to anything with fur, feathers and probably\nfins. Grasses are another big no-no. Hay fever comes on me like a South Seas\ntsunami. Once, an allergy doctor\u2019s injections of allergens transformed my skin\ninto a Himalayan topographical map, complete with surrounding foothills, a\nnearby village and a lagoon. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
On my very first day, I knew I was doomed when I poured\nlarge sacks of millet, cracked corn, milo and sesame seed into the garbage can.\nThen, with scoop in hand, began mixing. A cloud of dust rose from the can and\nenveloped me in a vortex of wheezes and sneezes. And the more I scooped, the\nmore the dust arose. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
Once that task was completed, I scooped the seed into the\nempty boxes. That activity created dust clouds of a smaller magnitude, but\nthere were dozens of them, each hovering above a box. When the boxes were\nfilled, they needed to be sealed. During that process, the rubber cement brush\nquickly gathered enough birdseed to feed a family of finches and possibly a\ndozen canaries. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
I didn\u2019t last more than a week. And though I\u2019ve had plenty\nof other jobs since then, this one was not for me. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
It was for the birds. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
James began his writing career as a copywriter for the Montgomery Ward Farm and Garden Catalog. This gig taught him how to distill all the pertinent features and benefits of a tractor, tiller or mower into 12 lines of 36 characters, including “Easy to Assemble.” <\/em><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" There\u2019s a story behind those boxes of birdseed at your local pet store. Someone with a deft hand mixed different seeds into a curated blend designed to satisfy a bird\u2019s deepest culinary desires. That someone was me. Looking for a summer job during high school, I spotted a \u201cHelp Wanted\u201d sign on a pet shop … Read More<\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"nf_dc_page":"","om_disable_all_campaigns":false,"_monsterinsights_skip_tracking":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_active":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_note":"","_monsterinsights_sitenote_category":0,"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_publicize_message":"","jetpack_publicize_feature_enabled":true,"jetpack_social_post_already_shared":true,"jetpack_social_options":{"image_generator_settings":{"template":"highway","default_image_id":0,"font":"","enabled":false},"version":2}},"categories":[5],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-1799","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-creative-non-fiction"],"jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/pa867U-t1","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/underwoodpress.com\/ruescribe\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1799","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/underwoodpress.com\/ruescribe\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/underwoodpress.com\/ruescribe\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/underwoodpress.com\/ruescribe\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/underwoodpress.com\/ruescribe\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=1799"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"https:\/\/underwoodpress.com\/ruescribe\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1799\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":1801,"href":"https:\/\/underwoodpress.com\/ruescribe\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1799\/revisions\/1801"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/underwoodpress.com\/ruescribe\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=1799"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/underwoodpress.com\/ruescribe\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=1799"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/underwoodpress.com\/ruescribe\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=1799"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}