Windows

I can tell he has been waiting for me to wake up. At first I think he wants me to take over the wheel, but then I realize he wants company. He raps on the car window and says, "In ancient Mesopotamia it was hot. There was no glass. What they did have was the wheel -"

The yellow-naped Amazon breaks into Oscar Mayer weiner jingle before I can ask him what the hell he's talking about.

"Shut up!"he yells, and I sit up, startled, thinking that he is yelling at me. The bird says "Rawrk!" and starts the jingle over, from the beginning.

"Here's why windows are called windows", he says with strained calmness when the bird has finished, but a lorikeet interrupts. "Advil works" the bird says, "better than Tylenol".

He blindly gropes the back seat for a cage, seizes one, and slams it against another cage. All the birds revolt, screeching and shuffling feathers. But then he raises his voice above the din. "The Mesopotamians cut out circles, or 'O's in their homes to mimic the shape of the wheel, but also to let in the wind!" he yells. "And there you have it. Your modern-day window. Get it? 'Wind-o' "

I look to see if he's taking himself seriously. He used to say shit like this when we were younger. I could never tell whether he was kidding me or himself. "You're trying to tell me that the Mesopotamians spoke English? And that they created little 'O's in their homes to let in the wind?"

"All right. Don't believe me, then."