Lately, my husband has taken to calling me a “Beak Geek.” I’m not sure whether or not to be insulted at this or take it as a compliment. I thought I’d ask a few other friends if the label fits. They hedged a lot. Hmmm. So I did an internet search and found the following:
You know you are a Birding Fanatic if…
… There is a strange, but distinct correlation between the last time your house was thoroughly cleaned and the development of your birding interest.
… you’re hopeless at remembering people’s names, yet you know the scientific names of all birds ever seen in North America.
… someone is trying to sell you some swamp land in a 3rd world country and you actually are interested! —Bill Kossack
… you have a trip list from your honeymoon.
… for your wedding anniversary he takes you to the Brownsville City Dump to see the Mexican crow! —Keri Dawkins
[At this point I’d like to point out that, while I’ve never been to the Brownsville City Dump (because we’d heard that the Mexican crows aren’t there any more), my loving sweetie did take me to the Ft. Lauderdale dump to look for birds. In addition, we spent our 25th wedding anniversary at a dumpy motel near Alamosa because it was near two wildlife refuges… and he’s not even a birder!]
… you insist on doing the dishes all the time because you have a bird feeder visible from the kitchen window. —Pierre Duguay
… you stand on a -15 degree beach with your bins frozen to your head trying to discern whether those little black dots moving left to right are either surf or black scoters —Scott Edwards
… you have gotten in a traffic accident looking for a bird.
… you think getting in a traffic accident looking for a bird is fine if the bird was worth it.
… you need to get out for a little fresh air, so you head for the sewage treatment plant.
… when you ask your birding buddy what she did in the Grand Canyon, she describes driving up to the entrance gates and asking where the sewage ponds are—and that seems absolutely rational and appropriate to you.
… when you go to the Grand Canyon yourself what’s the first thing you do? Visit the sewage ponds, of course! —Robin Smith
… after a six inch snowfall, you won’t shovel out the driveway, or the front steps, or the sidewalk, or the back steps, but you shovel off half the patio in your bathrobe and boots in subzero wind chill to spread seed on the cleared space because your juncos are hungry… —Julie Stielstra
If you enjoyed these enough to get this far, there are a lot more at the Panhandle Bird Club website.