Maybe it wasn’t the first bird song imitation contest ever, anywhere. Maybe it was just the first bird song imitation contest ever to take place at a literary festival. In any case, it was huge. It was, in daughter Ruthie’s vernacular, “epic.”
The room was packed. (Really. More than 100 people, which surprised the heckadoodle out of me.) I warmed the crowd up for the main event by reading the piece from The Armchair Birder on the wood thrush, whose ethereal song is probably the prettiest in North America. Then I took my seat next to the other judges, brother Richard and his son Lawson, giving the event another claim on history: a panel of judges all of whom were named Yow. We asked for a show of hands from people who intended to participate. I was concerned. What if there were 50? How would we get through the thing. Well, six people raised their hands. Perfect! That was exactly the number of prizes I had brought along.
For his imitation of a pterodactyl, Scott took the sixth-place prize: a pack of four little yellow replacement “stamens” to go in his hummingbird feeder. (It actually sounded like a pretty good imitation, but since nobody has ever heard a pterodactyl, we had to dock him a few points.) Bob White (he swore that was his name) won the coveted deck of “owl” playing cards for his imitation of—guess what?—a bob white. A couple of exotic women took home mini-sized hummer feeders (the woman at the Bird Watcher Supply Store guaranteed that the birds love them) for a couple of exotic imitations: a hadada ibis and an Indian quail.
First prize went to Chris—eight years old, ten at the most—who absolutely nailed the mourning dove. He won one of those little wooden things you twist back and forth to make bird calls. I’m pretty sure he was delighted.
Finally, the grand prize, which surprised nobody. Kristen, a 19-year-old coed from UNC-Asheville had utterly blown the room away with her imitation of a sandhill crane. I swear—if we had been outside and didn’t know better, everybody would have been craning their necks and searching the skies. Kristen won a copy of The Armchair Birder, inscribed to:
Grand Prize Winner
Bird Song Imitation Contest
Decatur Book Festival, 2009.
The whole thing was a riot, if I do say so. Thank you, Decatur.
3 Responses
September 9th, 2009 at 2:45 pm
The Armchair Birder gives an accurate rendering of the process of the great event on a beautiful Sunday afternoon at the truly now world-famous Decatur Book Festival. What John has not said is what a complete hoot his and Richard’s and Lawson’s show was. John had spent hours loading Stokes’s bird calls onto his ipod. What the ACB had not mastered was how to work his player. So when we moved into the bird call identification part of the presentation, John’s ipod loudly announced “Bald Eagle” before playing the call. Since Richard had tried earlier to get his really fancy-dancy player to sound the notes of the calls contestants were making and had a pretty hard time of it, the Yow boys appeared slightly Luddite-ish. Susan, Richard’s wife, said in a loud stage voice, “Richard just got that thing; he doesn’t know how to work it yet” to the delight of those sitting around us. I knew John would play with his like a monkey. I watched him trying to load the thing. Lawson, handsome and charming, just sat smiling throughout as though he had borne his father’s and uncle’s ineptness over many years. Indeed the dear boy has.
The most important point, though, is that it was a really fun event. The crowd got into the spirit of birdcalling with zest and silliness, cheering wildly the dove and clapping maniacally for the sandhill crane and the exotic ibis. John didn’t mention that Scott had flapped his arms wildly with his pterodactyl call, to the amusement of all. Nor did he mention that Scott scared the wits out of us earlier that morning as we walked up Clairmont toward the courthouse. Cawing like a crazed crow, he zoomed by us on his bike, shouting back: “That’s not the call I’m doing!” Such a wonderful prelude to a totally cool event. Epic, I don’t know. Comic, yes. Tragicomic with John and Richard’s genius with technology.
If you didn’t make it, catch the show in Nashville at the Southern Festival of Books in early October. Maybe by then John will have figured out how to work his ipod. Or even more amazing–perhaps he will have seen a wood thrush.
September 10th, 2009 at 8:00 am
Would’ve given anything to have been there! I’m working on several calls for the next contest . . .
September 10th, 2009 at 8:40 am
Great report, John! Would have been great to witness first-hand.
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