Six Things, Volume 48
Wisdom | Music | Maps | Calendar | Owls | Pat
Thing 1 – Wisdom
There was celebration on Midway Atoll this month.
For those not familiar, Midway Atoll is in the North Pacific, about 1100 miles west-north-west of Hawai’i. It’s one of the United States Minor Outlying Islands, and you can get a sense of its vibe from one of its Hawaiian names: Pihemanu, or ‘the loud din of birds’.
One of those birds is Wisdom, a Laysan Albatross, who is now at least 72 years old. And the reason for the celebration is her return for yet another breeding season.
Laysan Albatrosses, unusually for the family Diomedidae, hang out in the northern hemisphere, and 99.7 of the world’s population breeds in the Hawaiian Archipelago. When the breeding season is over, they head out to sea, returning to land only when it’s time to start the cycle again. Wisdom, while apparently no longer breeding since the disappearance of her long-term partner, Akeakamai, a couple of years ago, still makes that journey – what else is she going to do?
In 1956, the year Wisdom was first ringed (banded if you’re American), My Fair Lady opened in New York, Grace Kelly married Prince Rainier and Elvis had his first hit with Heartbreak Hotel. Pakistan became the first Islamic republic, Mel Gibson was born, and the first Eurovision Song Contest was held.
That’s the one that brings it home for me. Wisdom is older than Eurovision.
She has, incidentally, outlived the man who attached that ring/band, Chandler Robbins, by six years. And while we’re doing astonishing statistics, here’s just one more: they reckon she’s flown over 3,000,000 miles in her life – that’s six times to the moon and back, give or take.
Wisdom might be an outlier – and she is certainly the oldest known wild bird alive today – but given the longevity of albatrosses, it’s entirely plausible that one of her parents was alive at the same time as Tchaikovsky.
*MindBlown.gif*
Here she is a couple of years ago.
There are many reasons to love an albatross. Those deep-set black eyes, that extraordinary bill, the noble domed forehead. And they live extraordinary lives, ranging far across the ocean, barely twitching a wingtip as they soar over the waves in search of food. Albatrosses thrive in conditions that would make most humans cling wanly to the ship’s railing while trying to keep their lunch down. And given a favourable wind and an open ocean, they are about as good at being in the air as anything else on the planet.
On land, not so much. Those very adaptations that make them so effective and economical in the air work against them when executing any manoeuvre that requires agility, such as landing.
If that doesn’t endear albatrosses to you, try this, the mating ritual of a pair of Laysan Albatrosses, a display of magnificently eccentric exuberance.
Our knowledge of albatrosses is limited – they wisely choose to eschew our company as much as possible. But something about them – perhaps their monogamy plays a part in this – chimes with something deep in the human soul. And Wisdom’s extreme age intensifies that feeling. She endures, living until there is no more living to be done.
Thing 2 – Music
Here’s a fun game which will tell you not only how old you are but also how bad you are at remembering lyrics.
Thing 3 – Maps
I like a map. If you’re a regular here, you might have noticed.
I grew up trusting maps. They were authoritative, a representation of where everything is. Maps were truth.
How very naive.
Maps lie all the time, telling the story the mapmakers want you to.
(Note to self: at some point include in Six Things an in-depth analysis of the full extent and development of manspreading in the 1990s, with particular reference to Josh Lyman)
This fundamental concept is illustrated in this bit of dialogue from the Penguin Diplomacy episode of John Finnemore’s excellent Double Acts (sadly not available on BBC Sounds at the moment, but well worth spending money on).
“I have an official maritime chart here…”
“Is it by any chance a British chart?”
“Of course!”
“And it supports the British claim? How extraordinary.”
“Well it’s not a British claim, it’s simply the facts.”
“Of course, but if you were to consult a Danish chart, I think you would find it supported other, more Danish facts.”
And even when maps tell the truth, humans oversimplify and misremember and generally arse things up, as illustrated in this fun piece, in which we learn, among other things, that Greenland is more north, south, east and west than Iceland.
Thing 4 – Calendar
“Come, child, and let me tell you of the advent calendars of my childhood.”
“Were they things of wonder, grandad, bearing myriad delights and filling the heart with glee?”
“They were indeed.”
“Do tell.”
“So. Here is how it was. Every morning in December I would wake early, gripped in a fever of anticipation. I would pad down the stairs, careful not to wake my parents, and grip the handle of the sitting room door, my hand trembling with excitement. The big door would swing open and there, perched on the sideboard, was the calendar, as if suffused in an aura of magic. ’Twas but a small rectangle of cardboard, but oh the glories therein. I tiptoed across the room, breath held, reached up, and…”
“Yes?”
“…opened…”
“YES?”
“…a small hinged window with a number on it.”
“And what, pray, dearest grandpapa, lay behind the window? It must have been something pretty special.”
“Oh it was.”
“Sweetmeats? Exotic herbs and spices? Glittering trinkets? CHOCOLATE?”
“Even better.”
“What, then?”
“A picture.”
“A picture.”
“A picture.”
“And what did the picture portray?”
“I forget. I remember only one thing, and it was a miracle of sorts.”
“Yes?”
“The picture was different every day.”
“Oh. No chocolate then.”
“No.”
“Not gonna lie, grandad, that actually sounds a bit crap.”
Like those childhood calendars, the Rijksmuseum advent calendar gives you a picture every day. But – and call me sentimental – it is rather lovely. Set aside fifteen minutes or so and catch up.
Thing 5 – Owls
Another thing they didn’t have in the 1970s was Instagram accounts devoted to finding all the owls in the Metropolitan Museum of Art. And the 1970s were poorer for it.
Thing 6 – Pat
Please enjoy the look Pat Phoenix gives the camera operator after they whack her in the back of the head.
If you enjoyed this, do please share it far and wide. Look, there’s even a button.
And maybe you can leave a comment. It needn’t be long (“here is a comment” will do), but they do give me pleasure.
Another thing that gives pleasure (oh sweet sweet dopamine) is when people click the little heart down there.
Thank you for those little moments of joy. I’m sitting with my 90 year old Mum who is very unwell but the albatross video of Wisdom made her smile. A very precious moment. And I remember the joy too of advent calendars. Such simple pleasures. Thank you for reigniting that childhood memory.
Better late than never for that glorious Advent calendar.