Tuesday, September 11, 2018

Phalacrocoracidae, Simeon and Tapdancing

Part One: Phalacrocoracidae


The family Phalacrocoracidae is home to some 40 species of birds. Most well-known are
the cormorants, but the family also includes the very unfortunately named “shags.”
They’re tall sea-birds with long beaks adapted for eating slender fish and eels. Typically
saltwater, some varieties have adapted (some would say re-adapted) to inland seas. There
are some three species common in New Hampshire, all with dark plumage and the typical
wing-drying behaviour of the family. This behaviour isn’t widely studied, but in all species
studied thus far, it appears that the feather layers are actually water permeable, so after
any length of soak, they have to dry by the side of the water before resuming fishing.


They aren’t as sociable as gulls, but typically live in small family groups, and while they
tend to avoid humans they have no special fear of them and can be found on piers and
docks, and in backyard ponds. Because their diet consists mostly of “feeder fish” for the
kinds of fish that humans like to eat, they’re often regarded as a nuisance species.


Part Two: Simeon


I love the Gospels. While I tend to find myself navigating through the prophets or
rereading Ecclesiastes or James, I make a conscious effort to re-read them Gospels at
least once a year, just to refresh my memory. It’s always a worthwhile read and I pick up
on something that I missed the last time around.


The story of Simeon, which is only found in Luke’s gospel, is not one of those hidden
stories. The short of it that a Jewish man was told by God Himself that he would not pass
from Earth without seeing The Messiah and, when Mary and Joseph brought Jesus into
the temple at 40 days old, he held him and said a prayer over him. He gave him back to his
parents, telling them their child would bless the world, although Jesus would also suffer
terribly.


And that’s it. A few minutes contact with the divine and Simeon exits the stage. The text doesn’t spell it out
entirely clearly, but in context with what he said, Simeon might well have gone home and died that night, his
destiny and his desire fulfilled.


Part Three: Tapdancing


As with many American forms of dance, tapdancing is … well, complicated, when it comes to its historical
roots, and even to its modern presentation.


Drawing from Irish, English, African and possibly Dutch rhythmic dancing traditions, tapdancing is basically
the dancing art of tapping metal plates on the toe and heel of specially made shoes in a pattern. It dates back
to the 1800s or so, and was a common element of minstrel shows. During the days of vaudeville, dancers
began to add more arm movements, and by the jazz age it was very much the freewheeling style of
tapdancing that’s still evolving, but would be recognizable to an audience today.


As a dance style, it’s most commonly associated with African-American performers, and, based on its early
associations with minstrel shows, some artists have suggested that perhaps tapdancing should be phased
out in favour of more inclusive, less racially-charged forms of dance but, well.




Dule Hill, mostly know for his role as Ovaltine Jenkins on the TV show “Psych,” has said that tapdancing feels
“liberating.” The proof is in the footwork, I think.


Part Four: The Story


On Monday, I went to my son’s dance studio. He’s fifteen, so usually I just drop him off and head back home,
but that particular day I needed to go in to see if his tap shoes had arrived, and to pay for them if they had.


On entering, there were between ten and one hundred people milling about the lobby as two classes were
nearing their end and parents, brothers and sisters milled around. I tried to penetrate through to the front
desk, but there were just too many people. I waited my turn as parents and kids cycled past Kris, one of the
heads of the studio, with their questions, comments and concerns. When I got to her, we exchanged
pleasantries and then she looked out at the nearby highway, cried out, “There’s a duck in the road!” ran out
from behind the desk and outside.


I stood inside, staring at the place where the air was still rushing in to replace Kris’ now-absent form, mouth
somewhat agape, but soon rallied and looked outside. There was indeed a large bird in the middle of the
highway, and as I watched she ran into traffic and guided the bird off the highway and into the relative safety
of a small side street. As she continued her efforts to corral the bird to safety, a minivan turns down the side
street.


At that distance it was impossible to see the actual conversation that ensued, but soon the driver of the
minivan was parked at an angle on the road, and she and Kris were working together with the bird. The
minivan blocked our view, though, so I and the other inhabitants of the dance studio lobby watched and
craned out necks, waiting for her to come back. Soon enough she did, her jacket off and carrying something
inside it, cuddled to her front like a lost child, or a damaged seabird.


She skittered inside and confirmed that she did, indeed, have a seabird wrapped in her jacket and could
someone be a dear and see about getting a blanket because the bird was rather larger to carry to a vet’s
office in a windbreaker.


My trunk is a place of mystery. Even I don’t know exactly what’s in there, but one thing I remembered is that it
still held a costume I wore a few Christmases ago when I played the role of Simeon in a play at church. It was
a large robe on me, and since I periodically wake from a nap to find parties of explorers trying to spelunk
inside me, that meant it was just enormous. I rushed out to the car and found it, and ran back in.


I was outside for perhaps a minute, but in that time the bird had gotten loose and pecked Kris on the bridge of
the nose. She still held it in her arms, but now had a hand holding the bird’s beak shut. That was when I
realized what she’d realized earlier - this wasn’t a duck. The beak was simply too long and slender.


She made her way into the passenger seat of an SUV belonging to a dance mom who’d agreed to drive her to
the vet’s office and they were off. When I returned to pick up Graeme, she was back and reported that the
bird was indeed a cormorant, that it had a broken wing and would be referred to the New Hampshire
Department of Fish and Game to be rehabilitated and returned to the wild.


Part Five - Conclusion


By population, there are approximately five million members of the family Phalacrocoracidae, worldwide.
Assuming that this was a female handling a brood of young, Kris saved the life of, well, just the one adult
because nature’s cruel that way. That seems like a great deal of fuss over one life in five million, but it was an
act of kindness, and that is, so far as I’ve ever been able to determine, its own justification.


Be more kind.


Part Six - Denouement

The tap shoes had come in, but they were the wrong size.