I don’t think that spiders can get scurvy, actually.  It is just a figure of speech.  Though I believe there might be some sort of fruit eating spiders out there.  After all, there are fruit eating bats, which is something you wouldn’t naturally imagine bats doing.  Bats flit and use echolocation and sometimes turn into Romanian dark lords.  But pomegranate consumption seems a bit out of character.  Anyway, I guess it is possible that a spider could get scurvy if there was, in fact, such a thing as a spider that eats fruit.  Which there probably isn’t.  Anyway, I digress even before I progress.

If you have ever watched It’s a Wonderful Life (And most people have unless their name is Alex and they don’t listen to their father even though they are teaching film class and should know the movie as it is a classic.  No matter.  Just because listening to your parent is in the Bible is no reason to do so.  Eternal damnation be damned.), you know that George Bailey calls Mr. Potter a “scurvy little spider” when he meets with him over the fate of the old Savings and Loan.  For those of you not familiar with the movie, Mr. Potter is the rich guy who has taken over almost all of the town.  He only needs to get his greedy claws on the Bailey’s business to make his takeover complete.  However, George, despite having greater aspirations, keeps working at the Savings and Loan and thwarts Mr. Potter’s nefarious capitalist scheme.  That is, until stupid Uncle Billy almost blows the whole thing.

In a nutshell, the premise is that the rich will screw over all the little guys unless some little guys stand up against them.  Moreover, there is more to life than getting rich.  Though George remains middle class- when he assuredly could have made more money if only he were more selfish- he has the satisfaction of remaining a good man.  Of course, this satisfaction is dampened enough that George makes the decision to kill himself.  But Clarence, the angel, saves him.  In the end, George is helped out by all the people he has helped out over the years.  The final message is that we are all in it together and that it is how one treats people, and not how much money a person accumulates, that makes the man.

As you can see, this movie is hopelessly outdated.  If this movie was written by Republicans today, George would see the error of his ways and shrewdly partner up with Mr. Potter.  The two of them would turn the town into factories and low income housing that most definitely is not subsidized by the government.  Well, the factories and the developments are subsidized in the form of tax breaks because George and Mr. Potter (Does Mr. Potter have a first name?  I can’t remember.  We will call him Glenn for the sake of this essay.) are job creators.  George and Glenn go on to form a multi-national conglomerate and lobby the government to put stiff tariffs on any incoming goods that would compete with their factories.  Eventually, George goes to Washington (haha, I couldn’t resist…not that I ever resist) to become the governor of New York.  Once there, he cuts welfare and social security and Medicaid so that the middle class can get a tax break.  When Glenn dies, George has a library put up in his honor.  Probably because Glenn was such a great reader of literature.

For a more progressive script, consider this.  George fights the good fight.  After the Uncle Billy debacle, George realizes that something needs to change (how much can one man take?).  Luckily, he finds out that Mary is really an heiress.  She has loads of money.  Loads.  They can finally be happy.  More importantly, George and Sam Wainwright are able to join forces.  George becomes a candidate for governor.  He runs as a conservative Democrat (he is a business owner, of course) and wins.  He puts in legislation that fucks Mr. Potter over but good.  Mr. Potter is forced to go to the Koch brothers, hat in hand.  He returns flush with cash and religion.  God tells him to run for governor against George.  But, as we know, God is already on George’s side (remember Clarence?).  On the eve of the election, Mr. Potter succumbs to a heart attack.  Thus, George has both vanquished his evil nemesis and become rich.  The American Dream!  And Jesus approved.

In both scenarios, Uncle Billy dies a destitute, broken man.  I think that no matter what side of the aisle you stand on, you can agree that this is for the best.

Also, the movie ends with George visiting the pharmacist, Mr. Gower, in the nursing home.  George tells him thank you for everything George was able to learn at the pharmacy.

Then he slaps the old man in the ear.  And throws his mashed peas on the floor.

George looks into the camera.  His eyes are dark and menacing.  “Nobody pushes George Bailey around.  No one.”

Fade to black.

I was watching a couple of robins this morning.  They flitted to and fro, pecked at the ground a bit, and then flew back to a branch.  All in all, it was pretty bird-like behavior.  Robins are unremarkable birds.  I wouldn’t call them ugly, but I certainly wouldn’t describe them as beautiful, either.  Maybe a 6 on the bird scale.  And that is being gracious in case anyone is really into robins.  I hate offending bird watchers.  They take it very personally.  Even so, there is nothing special about robins.

Of course, some would disagree.  This disagreement is based almost solely on the fact that robins are seen as the symbols of spring.  I have always marveled at this designation.  Spring almost never comes with the robins.  They show up and then it snows.  And snows some more.  And then it is cold and rainy for a while.  Robins, who are largely dependent on worms for nutrition, often starve as they wait for the ground to thaw enough for the worms to come out.  The fact that robins are the state bird of Wisconsin only makes things worse.  It is a black eye for the entire state.

After all, robins are plain dumb.  Why in the hell would you leave a place that is warm and has food?  To be the first one here?  Congratulations.  Now you are eating barely digestible seeds left over from last fall.  Yummy.  If you were going to do that, you should have at least stayed over the winter and died a soldier’s death.  The truth is that robins are inferior.

Alas, life is about perception.  Commanding the narrative.  Faking it until you make it.  Robins are to the bird world what the wanna-be upperwardly mobile couple with a too big mortgage is to the human world.  These couples have a giant house and two new cars and no hope other than Aunt Esther dying and leaving them enough to make it through the next two years.  Sometimes Aunt Esther dies, sometimes she rallies.  And then these people are forced into bankruptcy or hitting up their wealthy parents for some cash (Kind of like when the damn robins eat under my feeder.  That’s not for you, you red-breasted freeloader.  Go back to Mexico!  Or at least Missouri.)

You know, you don’t hear the word “yuppie” very often anymore.  It’s just an observation.

Speaking of observations, the damned robin is sitting right in the tree across from my window.  Why?  What are you doing?  They always have that same damn look on their face.  I believe it would be best described as utter stupidity.  Go away!  It’s twenty degrees outside.  Idiot bird.  Perhaps I will have to scoop its starved, frozen carcass from my lawn.  Hahahahaha.  Into the cold, dark hole you go.

But justice is seldom served in this life.  Robins, flamboyant and ridiculous are celebrated.  Meanwhile, chickadees, hard working, decent birds, become an afterthought.

They should change their call.  Chick-a-dee-dee-dee, eff you, eff you.

I wouldn’t blame them a bit.