Tunesday : Birdhouse In Your Soul

Birdhouse In Your Soul

(Linnell, J / Flansburgh, J) Performed by They Might Be Giants

I'm your only friend
I'm not your only friend
But I'm a little glowing friend
But really I'm not actually your friend
But I am

Blue canary in the outlet by the light switch
Who watches over you
Make a little birdhouse in your soul
Not to put too fine a point on it
Say I'm the only bee in your bonnet
Make a little birdhouse in your soul

I have a secret to tell
From my electrical well
It's a simple message and I'm leaving out the whistles and bells
So the room must listen to me
Filibuster vigilantly
My name is blue canary one note* spelled l-i-t-e
My story's infinite
Like the Longines Symphonette it doesn't rest

Blue canary in the outlet by the light switch
Who watches over you
Make a little birdhouse in your soul
Not to put too fine a point on it
Say I'm the only bee in your bonnet
Make a little birdhouse in your soul

I'm your only friend
I'm not your only friend
But I'm a little glowing friend
But really I'm not actually your friend
But I am

There's a picture opposite me
Of my primitive ancestry
Which stood on rocky shores and kept the beaches shipwreck free
Though I respect that a lot
I'd be fired if that were my job
After killing Jason off and countless screaming Argonauts
Bluebird of friendliness
Like guardian angels its always near

Blue canary in the outlet by the light switch
Who watches over you
Make a little birdhouse in your soul
Not to put too fine a point on it
Say I'm the only bee in your bonnet
Make a little birdhouse in your soul

(and while you're at it
Keep the nightlight on inside the
Birdhouse in your soul)

Not to put too fine a point on it
Say I'm the only bee in your bonnet
Make a little birdhouse in your soul

Blue canary in the outlet by the light switch (and while you're at it)
Who watches over you (keep the nightlight on inside the)
Make a little birdhouse in your soul (birdhouse in your soul)

Not to put too fine a point on it
Say I'm the only bee in your bonnet
Make a little birdhouse in your soul

Blue canary in the outlet by the light switch (and while you're at it)
Who watches over you (keep the nightlight on inside the)
Make a little birdhouse in your soul (birdhouse in your soul)

Not to put too fine a point on it
Say I'm the only bee in your bonnet
Make a little birdhouse in your soul

Totally fun song, vaguely related to what I wanted to write about this week (wait for it). So here goes:

Because of the store's upcoming move, I've only had cash shifts since April, and that reduces the amount of time I have to talk to customers about books, which had been my favourite thing about working in a book store; for months now, people just want to pay me and leave. But not this one guy. For reference: He was probably early twenties, short and tidy hair but long and bushy beard, ridiculously large spacers stretching out his earlobes (both of my daughters said they knew the type exactly), and he was particularly polite and friendly. He came up to cash with that book pictured above, Giants in the Earth, and it's hard to say whether he wanted to justify why he was buying it or was just too excited about the subject matter to contain himself, but as soon as the transaction was finished, he smiled hugely and said, "I can't wait to start this. I just finished a book about giants in the New World and need to know more about giants in the Middle East." Now, he couldn't have known it, but even if I look like I could be his boring old Mom, he picked the right cashier to start this particular conversation with.

"Oh yeah?" says I. "Middle Eastern giants like the, what do they call them, Nephli...?"

"Right, the Nephilim. That's history. It's in the..in the books."

"Yeah, Old Testament stuff."

"Right," he says, "but that's history, too. The Nephilim were the offspring of the gods and human women, and they were giants."

"And the Flood wiped them out."

"Right, but they survived in the New World. It's in the history of the First Nations."

"I didn't know about the New World stuff," I said.

"Well, have you ever heard of the Snake Mound in Ohio?"

"That's right," I said. "I have heard of that, and it is supposed to be a burial mound for giants."

He's getting more excited now. "Yeah, they excavated some of the bones, like a hundred years ago and they were huge and human. They were sent to the Smithsonian, but were apparently lost and the local First Nations don't want any more of the remains dug up."

"Well, you wouldn't either, if that was your great-great-grandfather's burial place."

"Oh, for sure," he said. "Now they're using the ground, the ground..."

"...ground penetrating radar..."

"Yeah, ground penetrating radar, but they're going to need to wait for the technology to improve. It's not clear, what they're getting back now. They've got this LIDAR now, too."

"Oh, I saw that," I said. "I saw where they fly over the jungle taking pictures and can just, like, remove the trees by computer and see what's underneath."

"Right! Like, in Guatemala, they've discovered temple sites that have a much bigger footprint than they ever expected. I'd love to go to Guatemala. Actually, I'm planning to go to Peru and Bolivia."

Now I get to smile hugely and say, "Actually, I went to Peru recently."

His eyes goggle out. "And did you get to see any megaliths?"

"I got to see all of the megaliths. Machu Picchu, Sacsayhuaman, Ollantaytambo. We even flew over the Nazca Line Drawings."

"Oh, well, have you heard of the Nazca mummies, then?"

I pause to think. "You mean with the elongated heads?"

"Them too, but I mean the mummy they found that has three fingers on each hand and three toes on each foot. And when they tested them, their DNA didn't come back as quite human. They might be aliens; they might even be giants!" And that was where the customer ended the exchange, picked up his book with a smile, and inspired this week's song choice (or at least the band choice). As he was walking away, he told me that I might be interested in subscribing to the Gaia streaming video service - he made air quotes as he explained that it shows "documentaries" on everything from out there "conspiracy theories" to "DIY yoga and meditation" - and I smiled and said I'd look into it.

And here's my takeaway: Do I believe in giants and Nephilim and three-fingered alien mummies? No. But I do like watching shows about such things and learning what ancient peoples believed about their world. And I am in awe of megaliths and what ancient peoples achieved - often with little more than Stone or Bronze Age tools - by way of expressing themselves and honouring their gods. Right now, Dave and I are just starting to talk about maybe going on another adventure this year. Do we do a tour through England and Scotland (which includes both Stonehenge and Loch Ness)? Or would we rather go on a tour that includes the pyramids of Egypt and Petra in Jordan? Either would blow my mind, and not leastwise because I am open to the idea that something otherworldly goes on behind the scenes of real life; I don't believe in it, but I'm open to it and am fascinated by the megaliths that confirm prehistoric peoples were open to it, too. Like, if there was suddenly undeniable proof of ancient alien contact or the soul surviving death or the Matrix was exposed, I wouldn't be like, "I knew it all along", but I would be like, "Well isn't that a hell of a thing; I've heard that before and I guess they were right."  A flame of curiosity sits like a tiny little birdhouse in my soul.

(and while you're at it
Keep the nightlight on inside the
Birdhouse in your soul)

Added later: Just a week after I wrote the above, another, older, man came up to cash and placed a King James Bible on the counter. He said, "Do you know why I wanted to buy this?" I shook my head and smiled encouragingly, and he replied, "You ever hear of a show called Ancient Aliens?"

I had to smile again. Again, this customer couldn't have approached a more sympathetic employee with this exchange. "Me," he says, "I was kicked out of religion class in grade six, so what do I know about all this? But that show tells a lot of very interesting stories, a different history of the world, and I figured that now that I have the time to do some reading - and since the price of the book is so reasonable - I should look into what they're saying."

Now, I don't want to send anyone off with the wrong material if I can help it, and I'm no expert on what's in this slim King James Bible, but I think it's just the New Testament, so I ask, "Doesn't that show mostly concentrate on the Old Testament stories?"

"Well," he says, "they say that civilisation came out of Egypt. It started long before the pharaohs and the pyramids, but it turned into all that, and then it spread in Iran and Iraq and all of those. Even that Middle Eastern book, the um, the Koran, is based on all this, too."

I said, "I know that Islam accepts the Old Testament stories, but I'm not sure if that's what you'll find in here."

"Well," says he as he turned to leave, "that's what I'm going to find out."

And these two stories demonstrate why I feel conflicted about supporting the wacko shows I like to watch (mostly ironically). I fully support the young guy investigating the nature of reality and life on Earth; I did the same at his age and it was always fascinating to me and helped to form what I think of as a balanced world view (which ought to include information about the unprovable things that other people believe). But the older man didn't seem to be approaching his inquiry with fully developed critical thinking skills (I should mention that the "kicked out of religion class in grade six" was said with a proud smirk, as though he had always disdained the efforts to educate him), and I wouldn't want to encourage anyone on the path of fake news or conspiracy theories. Which makes it sound like I believe myself to possess rare gifts of intelligence and discernment; making these shows harmless entertainment for myself but dangerous for lesser minds. That's not what I'm saying, but I am often conflicted about whether or not Ancient Aliens does more harm than good; conflicted about what my role should be in either encouraging or dismissing their wackiest claims.