Songs from the Monkey's Head

We have a resident song sparrow whose territory includes the small pond just outside the upstairs master bedroom. Next to the pond is an old fencepost I sunk as a support for a now-long-gone trumpetvine. The post is a perfect singing perch for our songster, the brushy meadow spreading out below him, our house protecting him from the north wind, and a wide-open view to the east and west. Around the front of the house, a smorgasbord of suet dough is spread out each morning. Life is good for this bird.

Years ago someone gave The Swinging Orangutangs a ceramic monkey head. It was really creepy looking, so we took it to every gig we played and placed it on a mic stand in the center of the stage. Then, during one particularly rowdy show, one of the whirling dervishes among the crowd grabbed the monkey to dance with it. We could see what was going to happen, and sure enough it did--SMASH! The monkey lost his shoulders, base, and most of the back of his head. As I was unloading our equipment from the van at 4 am the next morning, I came upon the broken monkey head, and ceremoniously placed it atop the fencepost next to the pond. And there it has stayed for at least six years.

Now with all the paint weathered away, it looks more like a bleached-out monkey skull than a decorative , mantle-worthy objet d'art. The song sparrow does not mind. It's his favorite song perch.

I'm just glad that the monkey still gets to listen to music all day long.