Peek-a-boo by Gilbert R.
I wondered for years why.
After living with a girl as serious and introspective as me why would the parrot pick “boo” as his first word?
I knew where this word originated and I wasn’t terribly proud of it. It was an utterance which arrived from an activity that was very uncharacteristic of me. When Ty was a waddling wonder, not yet fully feathered, I would hide my face behind my hands and then pull them away with a gleeful “boo!” Not often, but when I did I admittedly found a guilty joy in this foolishness. Really though, peek-a-boo with a parrot? How utterly adolescent.
Still of all the great things the parrot could have learned to say… boo? I figured it was just an easy word and now that the words were leaking through the levy they would soon flow freely. I figured that our days of “boo” were blessedly numbered. It turned out however, that Ty’s first word wasn’t as much a descriptor as a philosophy.
Ty did learn to say many words over a matter of months, including his own name, my name and all his favorite things to eat. That year it seemed that he learned a new word every couple of days. This was when I began to understand the “philosophy of boo”. All the best things in life end in boo. I was renamed “Rebecca-boo” and frequently reminded how much he would like an “apple-boo.”
Why not? Boo was something you shouted right before you laughed. Boo was the sound of taking a few moments to be silly and engage with another creature that you adored. And the more I really thought about it, the more I realized my favorite part of myself was the “boo”.
Listening to Ty taught me not only what was making me miserable in my life (those damned heels) but also what I loved. (There is nothing better than an early cup of “mmmm, coffee-boo” on your morning off, for example.) When I started listening to what I was saying through the beak of a grey, I began to appreciate my favorite things, to imagine a life with a lot more boo. And once I started imagining, there was no stopping me.
I’m sure Ty has his own reasons for many things that he says and does, probably even his own feelings and opinions. It sure sounds like it sometimes. I could pretend he was a toddler and treat him like an extension of myself, but the value of his parrotness is immeasurable. He is an observer like no other, the voice of the elephant in the room and occasionally a lifesaver when I choose to listen. I don’t want him to be human, but I sure would love to be better parrot.
So next time you’re over at my place drinking a margarita and you hear me say, “What’s up, Boo-Bird” go ahead and giggle, but raise your glass. We could use a lesson in better living from the Master of Boo.
Catch up on Tuesdays with Ty
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Boo to you. You’re a really good writer, R, an even better thinker.
Dawn from your mouth to the Publishing Gods’s ears.
xo R
[...] before Animaniacs, Ty understood the value of “boo,” so we especially appreciated Chicken Boo. Yes, Ty can whistle “The Good, The Bad and The [...]