Nobody puts the baby in the corner
It’s a crisp January morning in sunny Southern California. A layer of morning smog dissipates, while the warm rays of the sun peek through. He waits backstage looking into the distance as a strong wind swells and hits his body.
Four years ago he arrived with high expectations from the frigid temperatures of the Bronx, New York leaving his family and friends behind. Thousands before they had already paved the way to Hollywood in the hope of fame and fortune.
However, unlike them, Baby, as he is affectionately called, is not a human being. He is a bird. A Moluccan cockatoo to be exact.
As a struggling actor who may soon be assigned to Community Theatre, Baby is about to be transferred. “It’s two steps forward and one step back with Baby,” says Johanna Caliso, one of the Los Angeles Zoo’s dedicated trainers.
She watches Baby balance on her agile bones as her cape of white and pink feathers basks in the sun. “We’re hoping that one day she can contribute to the show. Right now she’s not ready for the show.”
Fortunately, for the thousands of viewers who come to the Los Angeles Zoo each year, the show runs like clockwork twice a day during the week and three times on weekends without Baby. Today, one of the passersby turns out to be an aspiring actor. If anyone can appreciate Baby’s plight, it’s him.
Like Baby, Erik Nicolaisen ventured into Hollywood four years ago. He has endured the grueling auditions, the countless hours of rehearsal, and the painful rejections. “A big part of this business is learning everything for yourself and following your heart. No one will hold your hand,” advises the budding star.
Erik, along with the hundred or so spectators, watches as the cast of birds hit their lines and brilliantly follow their cues. The birds dazzle the crowd with their agility in the air, their keen intelligence and their beauty. Just like a Broadway production, everyone has a role to play to make the show a success.
First up is Blackjack, a raven and house janitor, who picks up some scattered aluminum cans with his sharp beak and makes sure to toss them in the appropriate recycling bin. Next in line is Abe, the house Abyssinian Ground Hornbill, who struts to “I’m Too Sexy” as he bobs his head like he’s dancing at the Roxbury. He waves his black feathers and tips his stubby legs and toes to the roar of the crowd, before disappearing backstage.
As the laughter dies down, the crowd’s heads turn skyward to see Flash, a Harris Hawk, rise from the top of the mountain and snatch a leather decoy that shoots like a cannon from below. . “Woah,” says one of the young students, craning his neck up. “That was great,” are the only words that come out of his open mouth.
Meanwhile, backstage, oblivious to it all, Baby sits still staring off into the distance, perhaps second, guessing at her career choice. Being a successful show bird requires hours of training and patience on the part of both the bird and the trainer. It also requires sacrifice.
Just like runway models must maintain their weight, birds are weighed daily to maintain optimal flying weight, which is difficult for Baby. Once he was a household pet, he was used to feasts of scrambled eggs, steak, and pasta. He now he must suffer for “bird” food, which consists of greens, bird pellets and seeds.
Beside Baby you can feel the nerves of Cheeks, a Goffin’s Cockatoo, preparing for his stage debut. He reminds you a lot of the nervous Luca Brasi from The Godfather before he met Don Corleone.
Music vibrates from the speakers, and within moments, Cheeks makes his grand entrance onstage. With the cooperation of a brave patron, Cheeks snatches a twenty-dollar bill out of his hands, which is sure to make Danny Ocean very happy. Unlike Danny, she keeps a clear conscience of hers by always paying the money back.
What the audience sees and what happens backstage is completely different. “It’s like Noises Off some days,” jokes Johanna as she rushes backstage to make sure everything is ready for the next segment. “Sometimes they don’t feel like performing,” she says as she ducks her head and melts into a small cubicle behind the stage.
By “they” he was probably talking about Scooter. If George Clooney were a bird, he would be reincarnated as Scooter, another Moluccan cockatoo and the star of the show. She looks amazing in that “I didn’t try” kind of with a hooked nose that makes you think that big noses are now all the rage. Sensing a new admirer, he throws his head back giving the best of Derek Zoolander as his feathers shimmer in the bright sun. He chirps with a voice that massages your ears and a charm that tickles your soul.
“He’s beautiful, but he’s a diva,” Johanna says as Scooter gently brushes her head against her arm. “He definitely thinks he should be the only bird in the show.” While the other birds performed, Scooter spent the morning lounging at his luxurious estate eating sandwiches. “I’m sure you think it should be voted sexiest bird of the year. Every year.”
It takes a lot of sunflower seeds, the only currency Scooter accepts, to keep him happy, but it’s worth it. He also accepts hugs, cooing and caresses; otherwise he won’t work for you. Annoying? Yes. Endearing? Absolutely.
Baby, a few weeks shy of your fifteenth birthday, your only chance of becoming a star is if Scooter, one day, moves on or somehow gets injured, which he does. Just a couple of weeks ago, Barney, a king vulture, was placed on the disabled list after breaking his foot. He will hopefully be back in a couple of days.
Although Baby has stayed healthy, he can’t seem to fly out of Scooter’s shadow. If he was in any other zoo, he would be the star. Instead, he has to swallow the fact that Scooter is simply better than him, and there’s not much else he can do.
After the show, while the others continue their antics, Baby perches on his branch hidden in a corner, shaking his head ever so slightly with just a hint of Bronx spite. No matter how much the parrots sing or how many times Abe plays a tune against the fence, he remains separate from everything.
Maybe he seems to be coming to terms with the fact that he’ll never be the star, but you wonder if his attitude would change if he just experienced the satisfaction of putting a smile on a child’s face, and hopefully for the children’s sake. the smiles will follow.
Unfortunately, budgets aren’t just for Hollywood blockbusters or the federal government. The show is just one of many projects being stifled by Los Angeles’ faltering economy and shrinking budget. “The kids love coming here,” says one of the teachers here on a field trip.
If the show were to close, the birds will either find work elsewhere or continue to live a happy and healthy life at the zoo. As for Baby, the training staff will persistently work with him every day because there is always room for another star. After all, if Robert DeNiro and Al Pacino can share screen time, these two can share some flying space.
“Hopefully the next time I come back, Baby, I’ll have made it,” Erik says as he escorts his fiancée, Rachael, out the door. “Eventually your dreams get tired of running away from you and you catch them.” For now, though, we must follow the one rule of show business. “The show must go on.”