A Vulture, a Door, and a Letter

Three thoughts in one piece

Wings don’t creak, but if the could, they would. He stretched them, tattered, toward the sun. A refugee from winter.

I watched him quietly. We were both surprised to see each other, and both too glad about the sun to react in flight. The vulture basked on a dead limb, in dead black. Dead things are his wheelhouse. Sitting on the back porch, I ate my breakfast, watching him, and wondered if he ever grew tired of it.

If you ask him, I’m positive he’d say no. If he’s like a person, that is. I once asked a girlfriend in a quiet moment with soft lights what she’d truly like to do with her life.

Insurance mergers and acquisitions.

We never ever let on.

Back on the porch, I chased a forkful of peas around, caught them, and chewed thoughtfully. The vulture basked again. His friend shuffled on the branch, wobbled, and caught again. The flag across the way blew cheerily in the freshening breeze from the west.

I need to get outside more. It’s something that’s growing urgent. The screen keeps stealing me. I keep letting myself be stolen.

***

Tuesday evening greeted me with a door that would have had the saddest eyes if it were a person.

Somewhere in its bloodline was the cold convenience of the Automatic. The only remnant of the modern ancestor was the absence of feeling.

But this door stood, big, brown paint partially worn off a grimy handle, smeared glass covered with shabby advertising bordering on propaganda, partial. HAPPY. HAPPY. HAP.

It didn’t open with a push, only a wrench, or a shove, or a lean with a winter coat, guarding the gas station to get food and cigarettes and the latest landfill fodder from the YouTube influencers.

Maybe the door’s purpose in life is to discourage, to offer a second chance to turn away and not get a cholesterol sandwich.

I ignored it. I ignore most things that try to tell me to be good.

Outta my way, door.

The sandwich took forever. A little voice whispered about seeing managers. Another one reached across from the other shoulder and smacked the first. I buried my attention in my phone, like everyone else. My own brand of distraction seemed more bearable than the signs trying to take my money, garish in the dingy light.

I looked up. Still no sandwich. But three other men stood, waiting, heads nodding into blue-light oblivion of their screens.

That’s not good.

Finally, done.

Thank you.

I wrestled with the door once more, and drove away, thinking.

She had written back that morning. “I love the piece. It’ll go great in the school paper.”

“Thanks, Principal!”

I said I’m trying to help the kids. But maybe it’s me, and that phone. I don’t know what to do about it. Here’s what I wrote them:

***

I'm Going Outside

Ditching the Phone with DJ Josh

Hey crew! DJ Josh here.

It sure was fun to play music at your Halloween dance. One group of girls said they grew up with these shows. That is the coolest thing I’ve heard in a while. We've lived a lot of life at St. Patrick's.

It's been good.

Principal told me there's a new school project: on cutting back on phone time. That's awesome. I am, too. These things are hard to quit, aren't they?

How's it going with your screen time? Any progress? Is it a good thing, or a real eye-roller? Experts say that social media and doom scrolling make us worried and sad. I feel that. Do you? Man, sometimes it's Misery City online. People can be mean!

I know I'm asking a lot of questions, but I'd like to know. I've been thinking hard, trying to figure this out. Here's what I've got so far. Would you agree?

1. Too much screen time/social media (can be) bad, because:

2. It distracts us, it depresses/worries us, makes us mean, and most of all, it burns up our time when we could be doing real stuff. Things like talking, learning, becoming a killer guitar player, getting good at basketball, inventing something, acing a ballet routine, or simply watching the clouds go by–the things that make us human.

3. But man, my phone sure is shiny. My pals are online, there are photos to post, cool stuff to brag about, and rumors to hear. And, it hacks our brains so we get hooked on looking at it. It's tough.

So what do we do? I'm not sure, and wanted to ask you. Do you have any thoughts or ideas? Do your friends? Try asking, and see what they say.

When I'm in the grocery store, I can buy all the cookies if I'm hungry. But that's not good. A nifty trick is to get something healthier instead, usually string cheese. I wonder if that would work with

phones. Instead of spending an hour on Instagram, we could do something else, like go for a walk or call grandma.

I did that the other day. I went outside instead of more screen time. Walked right up to the top of a mountain. It was awesome. I got lost in the woods on the way back, jumped over a creek, almost didn't make it, fell, got muddy, and made it home with a big smile. (Please ask your parents before you do that, though!) Touching grass seems like a good cure for too much screen time, but I want to hear your ideas.

Phones are a weird new challenge, but I know we're up to fixing it. I love playing music for you, and I'd like to see if we could work together to figure out this, too. The St. Pat's crew rocks.

Wouldn't it be cool if we crack the code, and help other kids at other schools have better lives?

So, with your parents or teachers help, drop me a note and tell me what you think. Let's see what we can cook up. I'd love to hear from you. Anyone who writes or emails will get an extra song request (and a shout-out) at the next dance. Now that's a deal!

Rock on,

DJ Josh

Send letters to P.O. Box 783, Rustburg, VA 24588 or Joshurban@Protonmail.com

***

I finished my breakfast, and went back inside. The vulture craned his scraggy neck.

In Soviet Russia, the birds watch you.

It’s a good day to feel the sun.

–Josh

P.S. Thanks to J & P, m & B for their sounding board help with the phones piece.