The Grub Part II: "I, Grub, Have Become a LISTER."

Welcome to the second half of our new interview with The Grub, sponsored by The Human Birdwatcher Project, who have always spoke truth to power..."birders are people too!" Catch the first half of this remarkable exchange right here.

BB&B: The animosity between you and another birder who has been mentioned in this space a lot over the years, Dipper Dan, is the stuff of legend and one of the great birder feuds of our time. How did this come to be, and do you have a message for Dan?

The Grub: The thing about "Dipper" Dan, or "Handsome" Dan, or "Hot" Dan, or Dan "The Awesome Guy With The Sailboat"  or "Soon To Be Married" Dan, or whatever other kind of wild bullshit people want to say about this man...the point is this: Dipper Dan has always felt that he is better than The Grub. This has, of course, been proved grossly false over and over again for many years now, but, blinded by his arrogance, hubris, and obstinacy, he still persists in this belief. Now, as far as birding goes, Dan is actually better than me...right now. But I am convinced this will not always be the case, and here is why: "Dipper" Dan thinks he is better than the birds too! And that is a losing strategy in the long run. 

Yeah I have a message for Dan...see you at your wedding!

[The Grub sounded rather menacing here...this requires some more explanation: The Grub was not invited to Dan's wedding, in fact I can't think of anyone Dan would be less likely to invite, as he had notoriously been trying for years to prevent his fiancee, Sultry Sam, from even having any contact with The Grub whatsoever. But in disastrous fashion, Grub did indeed crash the wedding as he threatened in this interview - see photo above.]

And I will also see you below me on the California list because before The Grub dies he will pass "Handsome" Dan on the California all time list! Don't believe me, Dan? Well no one would have ever imagined I would have seen more birds than Matt "Matt Brady" Brady in Mono County either, but the record stands for itself!

[At left is The Grub's prized trophy he was awarded for passing Matt Brady in the all time Mono County eBird rankings.]

So I know you haven't been doing this very long, but a lot of weird stuff happens while birding. Birders find dead bodies, people having sex, have rednecks freak out on them, get mugged, etc. Has anything like that happened to you yet? 

Well I was up in Seattle a few years ago and I had been birdwatching someplace, and then I was riding a bus back up town. I had my binoculars in my cargo pant pocket, and I think all you could see of them was a black cylindrical looking thing in my pocket. I get off the bus and I'm immediately rushed by two cops! They asked me if I had a gun! Evidently someone on the bus had thought I had a gun and called 911, all I could think of was they saw the binoculars. I didn't realize I had to worry about that when out birdwatching! Of course if I were black or brown that might have ended differently...

Yeah dude. Well, if you are going wear cargo pants in this day and age, you have to accept the consequences. Grub, I want you to look at what you said about rare birds in our previous interview, let's take a look.

[The below passage is an excerpt from the 2009 interview]

Around Mono Lake there is so much obsession for rare birds and birds that get lost. Every birder is stoked about poor birds who get blown across the country, thousands of miles from where they are supposed to be. You should have seen them racing down to the Mill Creek Delta for some kind of gull, something from eastern Canada and the northern U.S. It got blown across the U.S. and everyone talked about how ragged and fucked up it was. It couldn't really fly. It was all beat up and couldn't go anywhere else. People were getting off on this poor bird that flew the wrong direction. Everyone was so happy that this bird was dying alone, lost, from other side of country. Birders aren't about birds being in places they are supposed to be and enjoying themselves, they are about THE LIST. It's like bagging peaks, another thing that happens around here. It's a broish way to behave, to bag birds instead of enjoying them.

So now that you chase rarities constantly and are all about your county list...how do you feel about about what young Grub said? Now you too get off on poor birds that fly the wrong direction.

One thing that eBird brought out in me was something that, as you can see above, I had been most critical of in my pre-birder days: I, Grub, have become a LISTER.

Of course I am going to go find that vagrant that has blown thousands of miles off course, I'm going to find the shit out of it! Pad that fucking county list goddamn it! I mean it's not like people want the birds to get blown off course, or to suffer, but it happens, and if I can see, say, a Long-tailed Duck that's kind of haggard on Mono Lake instead of having to travel to fucking Lake Superior or whatever, well that's fucking awesome. Also, I've since learned that not all vagrants are really that screwed just because they aren't where they usually are. There was that male Grace's Warbler here this summer though, hopelessly singing for a mate that couldn't possibly be found, boy was he fucked. But welcome to Mono County, I guess...

[Grub gestures grandly at our surroundings, apparently forgetting we are in Arcata and not Lee Vining. We had been in the bar for a couple hours now. The Common Redpoll in Aspendell, above, is one of the rarer birds Grub has successfully chased and one I am envious of.]

Young, confused, stupid Grub was a little more on point about Listing and the peak bagging aspect...  and I am now certainly guilty of participating. But let me put it this way: Listing is basically exactly like Pokemon Go, okay? I mean, it's really EXACTLY the same...ya gotta catch 'em all! And of course it's fucking stupid, you don't actually have to catch 'em all...at all!  But which do you think is healthier and more productive, running around staring through your phone trying to catch fake monsters like a fucking moron, or running around trying to see actual creatures existing in actual nature...and then looking down at your phone and recording them on eBird like a moron?

But let me tell you, be careful when you get into Listing too much...especially when you aren't a Big Deal. Last year, in August 2017, I was birding with my friend Kurt, he's a pretty Big Deal, and by that time in the year, I had seen a lot of new shit. So Kurt says, "where are you on the Mono County year list? " And I had no idea that was a thing. So we looked it up, and I was in second place and only three species behind the lead! So from that point til the end of 2017 I decided to try to get the highest county year list, because boy would that piss some people off! And what happened next still makes me pause and look behind my shoulder because it taught me how serious these people are when you try to mess with "their thing".....

I'm not going to name my competition, because I'm not trying to get the shit beat out of me, but let's just say she has the highest Mono County year list every year, and last year I was her only competition. Throughout September-December, we were neck and neck, and by December 29th, I was astonished to find myself two birds ahead of her! I thought she might still win, but I had given her a real run. The next morning, December 30th, she had gained 12 birds, but had no new birds that day...she had saved old lists and purposefully waited 'til the last day to sandbag me! I had been strung along thinking I was actually in there, only to be given a great big 12 species slap in the face on the last day of the year! "Know your place, rookie!" was clearly the message.

[Grub looks dejectedly into the distance, ostensibly at a major victory that was once in his grasp, but inexplicably slipped through his fingers at the last possible second. Remarkably, his fantasy baseball league concluded in precisely the same fashion this year.]

She broke me down and now, though I'm once again in second place, I'm not going to dare try and mess with her... for one thing she's probably got another big wad of lists waiting to knock me over the head with! I get it, it's just like what they do to rookies who first come to the Big Leagues, you fuck with them remorselessly and put them in their place.

Speaking of rookies and getting fucked with, you are a new and enthusiastic birder - are you willing to admit you are probably misidentifying shit all the time?

Yeah I'm positive I'm misidentifying tons of shit. The more I've learned the more I've realized how far I had to come to get to where I am now. I've gotten a lot better, but yeah, I'm probably still one of the sketchier birders in the Mono Basin. It was a while before I heard the term "stringing", but now that I understand the concept, I try hard to not do that.

How would you say your artwork has changed in the years since your first BBB interview? Any avian influence in the last couple years?

Birdwatching is doubtlessly destroying my artwork, like the rest of my life. I've painted some birds recently, sure. I painted a couple of paintings involving the Green-tailed Towhee...I think it's one of the birds that's intrigued me as something that obviously has always been a part of my life, but that I wasn't very aware of until recently. I imagine them having always watched me and wondered when am I going to wake the fuck up. So I paid some homage to them in my stuff. The Lazuli Bunting is another one. I did one of a huge Lazuli Bunting consulting a woman [left]. I think birds are starting to take on certain symbolic tones, the towhee seemed to symbolize aspects of my childhood or where I'm from, and the bunting is some kind of consultant or adviser. I expect the damn Pinyon Jays to interject themselves next, I've been spending a lot of time around them recently.

In your 2009 conversation with BB&B, you spoke of poor health and the distinct possibility of death before reaching 30, which you have avoided. Are you pleased with this outcome? Or do you subscribe to the "life is pain" outlook?

It's even worse than I could have ever imagined, Felonious. Not only am I still here, but I turned into a fucking birdwatcher! It's like someone played a sick joke on me for being so over-dramatic back in 2009 that they were like, "Oh, what's the most ironic thing we could do to this pompous ass? How 'bout make him one himself!".  Life is most certainly pain.

Can you imagine where I might be in ANOTHER nine years? I'll probably own a $10,000 scope or something, and be going on pelagic trips all the time.

I'm absolutely terrified of what is to come.

That will do it for our talk with The Grub, and that will do it for BB&B this year. And what a year it has been! Admittedly we didn't get to do some of the events we had been planning, like "Cape May on Mescaline" or "Bath Salts and South Florida Specialties"....heck, we can't even put together the "Southeast Arizona Acid Trip Report" in any remotely readable form. And so it goes...if birding is hard, blogging is harder. But so what? Thanks for celebrating TEN YEARS of BB&B with us. See you in 2019! 

The Human Birdwatcher Project Presents: The Grub Awakens

The Grub is an old friend of the blog. In fact, he is one of the fist interview subjects of The Human Birdwatcher Project ("Birders are people too!"), and that conversation is still a great read; it also sets the tone for the conversation we just had with him, almost ten years later! For most of the years I've known him, the Grub was in the unusual position of being in contact with birdwatchers all the time, generally disliking them, but somehow doing things that involved watching birds. The Grub is a janitor (specifically known for his "ground attack" method of janitoring) and an artist; comparisons to a modern day Charles Bukowski have been made more than a few times. Unlike Bukowski, The Grub is also known to dabble in venture capitalism and cryptocurrency, but before our interview he requested that we not delve into those mysterious (and perhaps extremely lucrative) aspects of his life.

These days, Grub no longer exists in that rare niche, with a couple toes of one foot in the birding camp and one foot firmly on safe nonbirder ground. Since BB&B first spoke with him, Grub has fallen for the dark and shameful temptations of birdwatching. A few found this to be predictable, the natural order of things, but many of his friends were shocked. Minds were boggled. The Grub is many things, but neither his detractors nor his friends have ever claimed he was a nerd.

Until now. BB&B recently sat down with him at Toby and Jack's, a Humboldt institution that was just shuttered forever due to its reputation for supplying customers not only with beer and liquor, but powder drugs and pills as well. Grub spent a lot of time here in his formative years, which even led to an attempt to open his own bar, "Toby and Grub and Jack's". It was the perfect place to catch up with him.

It needs to be noted that these are some of the only interviews in the world that document someone's opinion on birding both before and after their transition. Inclusion of these precious documents in the U.S. National Archives is both critical and inevitable.

BB&B: What happened Grub? We have you, on record, describing your life and worldviews as a nonbirder. But you have since undergone a drastic transformation....how? Why?

The Grub: How embarrassing...but I have become convinced that I have always been Doomed...even if you look at that old interview, underneath, you could sense the dread and deep-seated knowledge of Impending Disaster in that 26 year-old idiot's voice... he knew that he would become one eventually... in the end it was The Only Way.

There is quicksand at Mono Lake, real and metaphorical...people get stuck around here as much as their cars do...I know people who came for a weekend and have been here for thirty years. In my case, what hope did I really have? Like I said last time, I was raised in a birding atmosphere, I have always known a lot of birdwatching people...[Grub's voice trails off in a sort of soft, dreamlike disgust]

Something I've realized more recently, I've known a lot of actual birds for a long time too. I don't mean I knew what they were called and all that, but the Spotted Towhee, for instance, has been hopping around me since I was a child, we've shared the same habitat. For many years I was an asshole and I didn't acknowledge them much, but we would see each other around you know?

I've always been Doomed... I tried to drown it with drink, with apathy... at one point I ran up to Humboldt to hide... a lot of fucking good that did! I met even more birders up there! The cards were stacked against me, but I held out pretty long considering, a good thirty-three years before I conceded to the Terrible Reality...

Here's what happened: Maybe I could have ran for it again, left the area, but the mud was too thick. I kept working seasonally for the Forest Service, year after year, ended up buying a house in Hawthorne, Nevada, 50 miles east of Mono Lake. I ended up as the only guy in charge or with any knowledge of a wetland system on the north shore of the lake. I started turning valves and filling ponds, flooding meadows, and I started noticing how the birds were reacting to it and benefiting from these actions...I STARTED CARING OKAY??!!

[Grub's eyes are now wide but fearful, his body strained in a defensive posture]

So it was about 2013-14 I started realizing that I might actually be doing something important and that it might not be done without me, and as I started paying more attention to the birds, I started to realize I LIKED THEM OKAY???  I mean they're so much better company than people. I started valuing the position I had found myself in, that I had ended up in kind of despite myself (but let's not forget the Inevitable Doom)... and so I started trying to understand better about what the birds needed and how I could make better habitat. I of course had a vast array of Ornithological Advisers at my disposal, the foremost of them was The Great Ornithologist Felonious Jive....I consulted them on what I could do, and then I decided I had better go ahead and actually KNOW WHAT THE BIRDS WERE I WAS LOOKING AT.

Is this what Doom looks like? One of The Grub's ponds he has been tasked with maintaining. Photo courtesy of The Grub.

But what finally pushed me into Absolute and Irreversible Ruin was when in the fall of 2015, my brother sent me a pair of good binoculars. I had mentioned to him that I had started to try to actually identify all the birds I was seeing at my wetlands, but that the binoculars the Feds gave me were shitty. One day in September, like an unexpected fall vagrant, a package arrived from my brother... it was a pair of Eagle Optics binoculars.

At first I just thought it was funny. The Grub! With an actual pair of high tech optics! I was grateful though because it would help me at work, which is the only place I expected to use them. But shortly after I was out in Hawthorne and I looked at a few brown birds I saw in the bushes with the binoculars. The brown birds transformed into creatures with rich crimson heads like nothing I had ever seen before. I had seen Cassin's Finches before, doubtless, but I had never really SEEN them or paid them any attention.  I was astonished, the binoculars were like a portal into another world.....

So then I started looking at other shit through those goddamn things and now I'm totally fucked.

That's what happened.

This is a two-parter...what do you think of other birdwatchers now? After all, you know what drives them. And since you are one of them...what do you think about *yourself* now? I believe that when a person falls for birding hook, line, and sinker, something awakens inside of them...and it may not be pretty. 

My relationship with other birdwatchers is more complex than ever, I suppose. I guess I understand why they do the things they do better...I can speak more of their language...but just because I know where they're coming from now doesn't mean I want anything to do with them.

[Grub abruptly takes a big drink, too big, and looks around suspiciously at other bar patrons, ostensibly for any birder-types. Birders haven't set foot in this bar for about a decade though, preferring Everett's next door. He looks down at his beer again before continuing.]

One of the reasons I think I've continued to birdwatch is that not only is it something I can do by myself, it encourages me to go to places few other people ever are...if I see other birders somewhere I go, I usually want to get the hell out of there. Some of this is of course due to my lingering Deep Shame at becoming one myself, but I don't look at birds because I am interested in meeting people. Quite the contrary. I look at birds because I like birds more than people. For these reasons I have not become interested at all in the group aspects of birding. That said, there are a handful of [Grub seems to choke back vomit] fellow birdwatchers who's company I do enjoy, and, being very much an amateur still, looking at birds with these few Trusted Confidantes has been helpful for getting better.

A quick anecdote related to this: I got my first real taste of what I am going to term "playground politics birding" i.e., being suddenly thrust into a social situation complete with all the weird popularity hierarchies/competitiveness/awkwardness of the old days on the playground... when one of these Trusted Confidantes I do like birding with, Nora Livingston, and I went up to Bridgeport one cold December morning to look for a Black-Legged Kittiwake that had been seen recently. Now I know better, but at the time I was completely shell-shocked when at 8am I found myself standing in a group of 20 or so other birders looking for the kittiwake. Forced conversation, meeting new people, all the things I go birding to avoid, I suddenly was going to have to do if I was going to see the kittiwake. Furthermore, I quickly learned I was in the company of High-Level, and even Famous Birders, like people who have written Field Guides! [Grub's voice is rising now, and he is beginning to gesticulate wildly] I tried to say as little as possible, but having shown up with Nora, who is locally ranked as "Kind of a Big Deal", I was confronted for my credentials. I mean I didn't get punched in the face or anything, but I was put in my place. We were also the only people there who didn't see the kittiwake...Nora went back a few days later and found it without me, thus distancing herself from the "new kid/piece of shit rook-job". 

So now I know that the rarer the bird, the more you had better expect to have to go back onto the playground, because there will be a bunch of other birders there...and you better bring some rocks in your pockets.

[Grub's eyes narrow, then relax. He unzips a filthy, paint-stained hoodie to reveal...another filthy paint-stained hoodie beneath it. He pulls out his phone from the inner hoodie and appears to be checking what look like stocks. I get a glimpse at a lot of six-figure numbers on the screen before Grub silently slips the phone back into a pocket.]

So that's how I feel about other birders I guess... how do I feel about myself? If I continue to learn how to birdwatch and hone my skills I'm sure that some day I can turn into just as much of a Prick as the guy who wrote the field guide who was at the kittiwake.

You have started birding in the age of eBird. I consider eBird to be a great luxury, while some other newer (whinier?) birders consider it to be a god-given right that eBird is always perfectly functioning, constantly improving, and never inconveniences a user in any way. How has eBird helped you in beginning this nerdy endeavor? Or hurt you?

I definitely give much credit to eBird for creating the monster I now have to look at in the mirror. Once I had the binoculars I was more interested, but once I learned about eBird, which was right around the same time, I quickly found myself more and more eager to go out and record what I was seeing. I never birded before the age of eBird, but I can see how you would find it luxurious. It's very convenient. I've been fascinated at how polarizing eBird seems to be among birdwatchers. I know several birdwatchers of the "Old Guard" who claim to despise eBird (they all still use it though). I guess it's unwashed vermin like me who represent one of the reasons they hate it, now ANYONE can be a birder!

But the petty competition offered by eBird, ranking people against each other as it does, as well as the animosity of the "Old Guard", has been galvanizing for me. I look at the "Old Guard" as being mainly upset that others have moved in on "their thing".  I think I can truly say that vindictiveness is one of my favorite things about birdwatching, and eBird has been crucial for this.

The Grub expounds upon something, probably loudly, at Mono Lake County Park.

I would also say eBird has been very helfpul, not just as a motivating force, but it has also taught me a lot about what birds are rare and when they should or should not be some place, etc. Having to explain myself when I see something that is considered rare has taught me how to pay more attention to field marks, behavior, habitat. In other words, it has made an amateur a slightly better birder without having to go take a class or something, which I wouldn't do anyway.

It seems to me that eBird has become an invaluable resource, not only because of the immense volume of data it is amassing from millions of volunteer surveyors, but it is also turning millions of people who maybe only sort of cared about birds, or didn't care much at all, into bird enthusiasts. I can understand some of the reasons the Old Guard and others may hate eBird, but I can't understand how anybody who loves birds could have such a problem with something that has caused so many more people to appreciate birds.

[I am amazed to be listening to Grub speak eBird fluently and sing its praises without a hint of sarcasm. This is not the same Grub of years past...there has been an awakening. Grub orders a Coors from the bartender, who is looking like he is expecting us to order a little something else as well.]

You go birding regularly, I think it's safe to say it's one of the main things you do in your free time, at least while the sun is up. What would you have been doing instead a few years ago?   

A few years ago I would have been spending a lot of my time driving around dirt roads drinking beer, and sitting around along the creek drinking beer...[Grub pauses thoughtfully] or on a ridge somewhere drinking beer. That is literally what I did with my free time, especially in the summer. So guess what? Now I do exactly the same thing except I bring my binoculars. This is one of the reasons I think I've gotten so into it. It really hasn't changed my lifestyle too much, it's just complimented it. I've enjoyed paying more attention to my surroundings, it's given me a renewed connection to the area. I also have started going to more places that I didn't bother to go very often. But for the most part, I'm still driving around on dirt roads, now I just don't have my head so far up my ass...now I know, for instance, that the Slate-colored Fox Sparrows move through the Mono Basin for about one week in April every year. I think that's good to know.

The Grub is known as the darling of the east side art world. His work inspires many emotions and many patrons, like Eli Brooks, an Art Collector. Here, Mr. Brooks is seen fervently admiring a recent Grub.

I think knowing much more about the area I spend the most time in has been what I'm most interested in so far, but I'm sure before much longer I'll descend into the final Black Pit of Big Year Birding all over the country or something. At this point my Doom probably knows no bounds. 

One other thing I want to say about this though, is I have often thought back to another interview you did about the same time as my first one, with Coco [see the classic "Birding In Tamarisk Is Like A Rectal Exam"]. Coco described how when he started birding, he realized that his boring neighborhood was actually really interesting and diverse... if you watched the birds instead of the people. At the time, this was lost on me, but now I know what he meant. I've had to apologize to all the Sagebrush Sparrows and Juniper Titmice, the Lazuli Bunting couple that lives down the road, and the towhees of course, for living next to them all these years and rudely ignoring them.

Lastly, one thing that has certainly changed in my lifestyle is I might get up at fucking 5AM and drive to some godawful place in 15 degree weather to find a Common Redpoll or something... I have done this to myself and will probably do it again, and there is little I can do about it but proclaim my shame and embarrassment.

That concludes Part I of our interview with The Grub, check back for more Grub later this month!

"Drown in the soup, in the froth, resurrect": Song of The Setubal

Tomás: birder, surfer, lurker, intertidal scavenger, globetrotter, fungiphile, gourmand, Ween scholar, radio personality....attempting to put this man in a box is like trying to put Baby in the corner...nobody puts Tommy in a box. Nobody.

We caught up with TVS at the Coastal Ecology Lab on the shores of Lac Croissant in Olympic National Park, where he was busy installing a new idler shaft on his rock tumbler. 

BB&B: Sorry to interrupt the shaft work. Please state your name/occupation.

TVS: Tomás Vellutini Setubal/ambulant field scribe and lake visitor.

You are currently dating the educational director of the local Audubon chapter. Did you initially start birding to pick up on women?

No. Birding for me has mostly been a solitary venture, carried out most fervently in periods of emotional distress and crippling heartache. Akin to songwriting for musicians. Which I guess eventually gets them laid.

I see. Your Wikipedia page says you grew up in Brazil. What is the national bird of Brazil? 

Growing up, the Hyacinth Macaw was always talked about there, Arara Azul… an unbelievably blue macaw. Hardcore pet trade victim at one point, and thus a flag-bearer of the conservation movement in Brazil. But I think the national bird is the Rufous-bellied Thrush, the sabiá. Robin-like birdie.The true rockstars of the commons are the Rufous Hornero, a master engineer of cozy cob houses, and the Great Kiskadee, bloodthirsty insect slayer.

Describe what the average birder is to you. What do they look like? What do they think about? Does the average birder vary between countries? What does the Brazilian birder look like? 

Everyone knows the average birder here in the States. A Methuselah-aged seemingly innocent chatty pair of spectacles, unabashed model of the lamest outerwear possible, and proudly anachronistic except for when it comes to tools and technologies that aid in birding. They are white, they are wealthy, and they unanimously exude a deep concern for the state of their feathered brethren, sometimes more so than that of their human brethren. Common as fuk. Boring? Some say so. There’s a school of thought that encourages us to see the beauty in even the most common birders, and I’ve been trying to adhere to that.

Average birders in Brazil belong to a totally distinct class. They are younger, maybe in their forties, but also white and relatively wealthy, therefore far fewer in numbers. They’ve adopted a very European hobby, and must live through ten times the scrutiny of wearing their elitism around their neck or shoulder-strap. Some revel in that uncomfortable reality though, which plagues some areas of Brazilian birding with excessive dick-measuring contests of ocular gear. Because of the gear-centric approach, photography has a much more pronounced weight in birding, and mere accounts or lists may not be taken so seriously. They want photos badly, “registros” or records as they are commonly referred to will really weigh out your “birding” skills. They also wear lame clothing and travel far for bird sightings.

What is the best bird band name out there?

‘King Gizzard and the Lizard Wizard’ and ‘Cock Sparrer’ come to mind. A stretch? Maybe. Just picture King Gizzard though, the daemonic vulture overlord, and his sorcerous slithering crony. I love it. Both great bands. How about worst bird band name? The Byrds.

Agreed. Pelican is another great band/name. Simple, powerful, big sound. What is the best bird band name that ISN'T out there?

The Cloacas.

Oops nevermind, just googled it, the cloacas are out there shredding. Spitting out impeccable musical guano. Add The Cloacas to the answer above.

How about the Bohemian Waxwings? Seems like an obvious band name. A little hoity-toity perhaps.

I always wanted to start a band called the Chordates. How inclusive is that? Come on feathered ones, titty-suckers, all you herps, fishies, slimy tunicates, brainless branchiostomas, you belong here!

Oh, I get it! And play only power chordates, right? Ugh. Do surfing and birding have anything in common? 

Certainly, both are tiresome attempts at removing oneself from the tungsten, from the neon, from the halogen, from the inescapable humdrum of our anthropocentric existence. This endeavor is of course a fallacy, and thus the birder and the surfer are both fools. Fools fueled by a blind desire to somehow capture a sliver of the overwhelming energy that pulsates throughout this planet independently of our existence. The natural, the holy, the non-human, the earthly, the godly, the divine; all horrible words to describe these slivers that we attempt to find, see, hear, weep from such beauty, write down on our stupid lists, drop in, go up, go down, slash (yeah 
right), get barreled (uh-huh), drown in the soup, in the froth, resurrect, and do it again, over and over.

If you were to only watch Surfbirds (surfbirding?) would that be a close proxy to surfing?

Surfbirds are kooks. Pelicans on the other hand…

Drugs and birding. Do they mix?

I have heard tell of many a midnight revelries that involved the (omni)presence of Owls. As if they were drawn to it. Songbirding on the other hand, is a purifying, sobering experience, the antivenin to debauchery.

What are your favorite places to bird and why?

Riparian birding is the best. Floating down a river, ever done that? I used to do float surveys on the Trinity River, counting hordes of angry Black Phoebes, flushing Green Heron mothers away from their young. It’s a surreal experience, like birding on a conveyor belt.

Also dig birding in urban parks, seeing who’s braving the oases in the concrete.

I'm hip to the Float and Bird, yes. Makes me thirsty just thinking about it. If you could only have 3 birds and 3 books on a desert island, what would they be?

Books and birds. I see. You want emotional value, rather than utilitarian. Here you go, there’s some mystical connection to each:

1)     House Wren. East of Eden by John Steinbeck.

2)     Ruby-crowned Kinglet. The Forest Unseen by David George Haskell.

3)     Yellow-breasted Chat. Tintin in Tibet by Hergé

Heavy. HEAVY. SPIRIT BIRD?

RED-EYED VIREO. Dope migration pattern!

Favorite tasting bird?

Guineafowl, no doubt. Beautiful bird, love their calls, and they are simply the tastiest.

Yum. Let's stay in this vein. If you could eat any bird, guilt-free, no judgement, what would it be? How would you prepare it? With fruits/vegetation from the birds preferred habitat?

I would have a platter of deep-fried Bushtits. Dip ‘em in thimbleberry ranch. Damn.

Damn. DAMN. 

And thus another installment of the Human Birdwatcher Project's highly-acclaimed interview series is shelved. Remember...birders are people too! Some of them anyway. Hopefully our continual quest of understanding the Birdwatcher in all its myriad forms has been enhanced. Thanks to TVS for taking time away from his Eternal Search for the Barrel of Immortality to share some wisdom with BB&B.

Of Duff Diving, Nerd Networking and Junco Basking: HBP Brings You Christian Schwarz.

Today, the Human Birdwatcher Project ("birders are people too!") brings the birding scene that rare touch of humanity that only few of us will ever achieve. For this installment of our legendary interview series, we speak with Christian Schwarz, a truly multi-dimensional birder who can be found leading both pelagic trips and mushroom walks.  His upcoming book is expected to shake the west coast fungal community to its very core...with excitement, that is.

Christian, you are quite busy these days. What is keeping you so hard at work that you can't come to my house party this weekend for some liver conditioning?

Indeed. In 2010, I embarked on a project that has put my health, sanity, and relationships with other humans at great risk. Noah Siegel and I decided to write a new field guide to California mushrooms. Mushrooms aren’t like birds though: We don’t know how many species live here, many of them are still unnamed, and we don’t even know how to reliably identify a lot of the ones that are named. There has been much wrangling of primary literature. Minutia have been scrutinized. DNA has been sequenced. Beers have been drunk. After six years of work, we’ve settled on around 750 species to include in the book, and even so, it won’t be comprehensive. Thankfully, Ten Speed Press picked up the project and Mushrooms of the Redwood Coast is scheduled to be on bookshelves early next year.

There's a million bird books out there...some are indispensable, most are highly dispensable. What is the field guide scene like in Kingdom Fungi?  Where will your work fit in to the canon?

Currently, the mushroom field guide scene is blessedly simple to navigate. Arora’s Mushrooms Demystified is the gold standard. There will probably never be a better book for beginners (although it is in desperate need of updating). Lincoff’s Audubon Guide is excellent for the East Coast. Desjardin, Wood, and Stevens’ Mushrooms of California is the Johnny-come-lately, but promises to be a significant step forward. As for Mushrooms of the Redwood Coast, I have no qualms saying our book is going to be the best one for identification-minded mushroom folks in California. I think the fact that we’ve spent a shit-ton of time in the field will be apparent. Noah’s photos are the best around. That said, it might be a tough book for beginners who aren’t highly visual learners. But who knows, maybe people will hate it? Only time will tell.

Sclerotinia sulcata, by Christian Schwarz.

Aside from duff-diving, you are a confessed birder.  How did this come about exactly?  What drew you to the feathered ones?

The ongoing drought has had a lot to do with it. If I hadn’t been able to gaze at ducks and sparrows during those parched and rainless January days, I probably wouldn’t still be among the living. Then again, even in wet years, sometimes you’ve just been down in the duff too long and need to come up for air. Bird are obviously way more behaviorally interesting than mushrooms. That’s a big draw for me. I value birds for their soothing and hilarious properties especially.

Interesting...if true.  Describe your average birder for us.  What do they look like? What do they think about? What are their fundamental flaws?

Oh god. My role as myco-outsider has given me the privilege of choosing to have infrequent encounters with the birding “community”. Thankfully, as a young man first coming to terms with my ornithophilia, I was adopted by a Fellowship of Nerds who lived at the King Street Refuge for Naturalists. Although now a countrywide diaspora, the fellowship remains close to this day. I don’t think they’re really like other birders, but since I primarily go birding with them and their associated hangers-on, I’ll describe them. I wanna keep it short, though, so Imma do a haiku. Here goes:

Kids on the spectrum

Multitaxon burrito 

Love for life’s chaos

Whoa...what happened? I think I blacked out. That probably wasn’t my best work. I need a beer.

Please indulge us with your worst birding memory.

Getting robbed of everything I owned (including my passport) while birding in southern Mexico was pretty horrible. It pains me to think of the journal I lost, which I had filled with watercolors of extravagant Chiapan moths. Thanks to my fellow Bigoteros who did me a solid, I survived and made it back to the United States wearing a Hello Kitty Backpack with a grand total of 5 US dollars and 5 Mexican pesos to my name. But I did not die. The Gods decided Otherwise.

You are not known for chasing escapades, more for holding down Santa Cruz County. How is the Santa Cruz birding scene?  What should visiting birders be checking out?

I love birding in Santa Cruz. The patches are charismatic, and it gets occasional Vagrants of Exceptional Quality. The birders here are good folks, the drama is minimal, things are relaxed. Biggest downsides are lackluster habitat diversity (which is to be expected for such a small county), and the unreliability of getting pelagics to spend time in our waters (I’m a bit of a home-county lister). Visiting birders should head straight to Watsonville. For numbers, diversity, and an all-round pleasant time, south county is hard to beat. I particularly like visiting the CARE Park on the Pajaro River in spring (migrant Passerines), and Harkins Slough and College Lake in mid-winter (waterfowl and sparrows).

How do the mushrooming and birding communities differ?  What are their similarities?

Honestly, they’re pretty different scenes. For one, there isn’t enough known about mushrooms (in our area) to support much compulsive twitcher-type behavior. There’s common ground to be sure, but Christ, mushroomers are a lot weirder. Less disposable income, more often in trouble with the law, scruffier. But mushroomers really know how to cook, a lot of them brew spectacular beer, and boy can they party. I feel right at home.

Pycogonum stearnsi, Stearns' sea spider, by Christian Schwarz.

Aside from birds and mushrooms, you are known for your turnstone styles, lurking in tidepools. What world awaits you in the intertidal?

I was a tidepool fanatic before I got distracted by mushrooms. The siren song of saltwater has recently led me back to the brine. Looking for invertebrates along the rocky shore is very similar to hunting mushrooms - my brain falls into the same groove. But once you learn about the ecology of the intertidal, the similarity stops. I can barely fathom the life cycles of some of these crazy invertebrates. As for what awaits me? Brilliantly-colored soft-bodied things. Things with hard, articulating exoskeletons. Octopi that are smarter than some of my college classmates. Delicious mussels. Fish to fuel nightmares. Inspirational sponges.

Flabellina iodinea, spanish shawl, by Christian Schwarz.

Inspirational sponges...I believe there is a market for that.  You recently started an eco-tourism company of sorts.  Tell us about it, how it came about, how you like it so far.

Right! It’s called Redwood Coast Tours. We lead outdoor walks and workshops focused on local organisms and their ecology, mostly geared towards adults. I got the sense that there was a desire not being met - I heard people saying “Hey! I’d really like to know more about these organisms!”, but not really having anywhere to turn. So I’ve been working to build a network of natural-history nerds who are really excited about their organisms of interest, and who love to teach people about them. Whether it be mushrooms, birds, snakes, butterflies, squirrels, whales, spiders, plants, or sea slugs, I want people to come to us and find their curiosity engaged by excellent naturalists. As a company, we’re brand new, but so far I’ve had an amazingly fun ride. It’s been a privilege to work with the naturalists who’ve led trips so far, and the participants have been uniformly lovely folks. When I see people get super excited about weird little organisms, Life Is Not Pain.

Obligatory question: If one were to go birding under the influence of select mushroom varieties, what might transpire?

Hypothetically? Well, one might have a really good time. One might feel profoundly affected by the songs of vireos. One might see behind the mask and recognize the Wrentit for what She Really Is. One might bask in the wholesomeness of a bathing junco. One might see undulating waves of grassland rise to meet the ocean’s horizon whilst surrounded by the bizarre songs of meadowlarks. One might feel content at one’s core.

Photos of Christian with dead pintail, dead Blue-footed Booby, and live Bird Policeman by Adam Searcy, Amy Patten and Lindsey Mercer.  Thanks to Christian for doing this interview, and for showing us the incredible bonds that can be forged among the half-dead tilapia and swirling flocks of the Salton Sea.

Best Friends and Unstable Freaks: Photography, Birding and Field Work With Jill Wussow

Those of us who have toiled in the mines of the Birdosphere for many years know that you start to build some key alliances over time. I have known Jill (without actually meeting her, how 2013) for longer than any other of my blogger friends, so she is a perfect choice for bringing back The Human Birdwatcher Project's interview series. As HBP reminds us, "birders are people too!", and I think Jill proves that...but as I've said, I've never met Jill, although I would be surprised if this developed into another Manti Te'o situation.

Jill's work and questionable deeds can be seen on her blog, Count Your Chicken! We're Taking Over!, and on her website, Jill Wussow Photography. You may also harass her on Facebook right here. All of today's photos were taken by photographer, blogger, sometimes-birder and Golden-cheeked Warbler servant, Jill Wussow.

Jill. Back when I started BB&B in 2008, you were the first blog I found which featured someone who did the same kind of work, yet took really good photos, and even started a blog at practically the same time. I was weirded out, but intrigued. When did you start taking seasonal field jobs? What were your first couple of jobs?

Oh, I'll tell you everything. A lot of it. Some of it.  2005 is when the magic happened (and when all hell broke loose). I took a Student Conservation Association gig playing with sea turtles, Piping Plovers and American Oystercatchers. I met some pretty spectacular people and made some of my worst enemies. You know how it goes. The end of the season ended with a love a shorebirds and a restraining order (uh, not against me). I was obviously hooked. 

You've been in the blogging game for days and have won worldwide acclaim throughout the internet. You are a true maven of the birdosphere, perhaps even a Bloggess. What is your secret? Why did you start blogging?

Oh yes, worldwide acclaim. It does get rather tiring. Yawn. I felt the need to spread the good word, and being nomadic, it was a good way to keep friends and family in the know of my whereabouts. And well, frankly, nature, bird, wildlife photography is kind of what I love doing. That passion thing, you know what I mean? It pumps me up when others get it and appreciate it. 

You clearly like birds a lot. Whats wrong with you? What drove you to them?

Yeah, they're okay. You're right. I kinda like 'em.  But here's the thing: they came to me and I couldn't stop them. It took me a little while to get into the whole birding thing. I can't lie about it. But once I did (thanks to a certain warbler), well, sweet baby Jesus, Tucker! I am not a lister and unless someone else is paying for gas and grub, I'm not about to travel hundreds of miles from Mississippi to Big Bend to see a Tufted Flycatcher....Oh. Hold up. This actually did happen. And my photo of it got on the front of the Western Birds Journal. Shhh....so obnoxious of me. 

But seriously, like you said, there's a lot wrong with me. 

How did you start birding?

I can't lie, it was thanks to an ex. He was/is a rabid birder and it took some time but I realized that as painfully dorky as birding is, it can be sort of...what's the word I'm looking for..."cool?"  It took a little while though and I still am easily distracted ( I may or may not have ADHD or something similar) by shiny shit or bright colors. Even though I started studying birds in 2005, it wasn't until the end 2007 when I realized what was up. The Golden-cheeked Warblers sucked me in. They became my new best friends and they all have wicked personalities. I love them, and I know they love me too.

What did you think about birdwatchers before you knew any? What do you think about them now?

I thought they were f'ing obnoxious and painfully nerdy.  I stand by this statement.  I mean, not all, but a good percentage. I stopped [whitewater] paddling because of elitist egotistical dicky-bags, and birders can be awfully similar. There's really no need to be a pretentious birder, so this confuses me. I'm a very competitive person, but seriously, with birding? It's irritating and it makes them (the people, not the birds, come on) even less cool, so get a grip, really. I prefer birding with just one or two other people; those group things bum me out...maybe I'm anti-social, and maybe birds don't love huge groups of humans. That being said, when I lived in Humboldt County, I got extra competitive and loved seeing my name above certain Humboldters on eBird. Ahem. Now, eBird pretty much bores me. 

Being a seasoned field biologist, you are an expert on field biologists. What do they think? What do they look like? What do they talk about?

Oh boy. If we're going with average, I'd say use keywords such as:  dirty, dorky, backpacks, gearheads. What? I dunno. I used to think there was a common theme but I've done more than 10 field seasons now and I'm not really sure. In my ideal field biology world, there is a lot of not-bathing going on, backpacking/hiking, field guides, good beer, frisbee, barefoot running shoes, vegetarianism/veganism, piece of shit cars, hummus, Dr. Bronners, "hey, check out this bug!," mountain bikes, weird incestuous relationships. Things like that. Of course the list goes on. Unfortunately, there seems to be a lot of Jack Johnson type music and recent graduates who like to talk the (scientific) talk rather than walk the walk. So. It's a little weird because I know who the true average field biologist is. And I wonder, Tucker, who are we being replaced with? Who?

The Jack Johnsonites are to be feared and loathed, there is no question.  It sounds like you have worked with as many horrible people as me. Any embarrassing/aggravating stories you want to share?

I have worked with many more horrible people than you have. I guarantee it. The aforementioned restraining order incident (which was heaps of fun), the alcoholic cactus poacher, the previously-jailed heroin addict, the 300 pound guy who wanted to kill anyone with a vagina, the crazy Mormon who I'm pretty sure was hiding bodies in her spare time, the gun-wielding slut grad student...I don't want to write a book here, Tucker, but I easily could. I'd like to say the drama thing escapes me but that's just not the case. I often feel like I'm in the middle of some twisted Real World Field Biologists nonsense...which, by the way, is a really good idea. Also, I do have a pretty horribly embarrassing story that involves a field dump, but I'll save that one for a rainy day. And one more side note: I've met some of my best friends doing field work, they're not all unstable freaks!

Is it possible to be a hardcore birder or biologist without being a nerd?

Yes, just look at Elias Elias!! I love him, and I hope this doesn't embarrass him because I mean it in a flattering way. 

I'm pretty sure Elias is a nerd (no offense Elias). Moving on...you take facemelting pictures. What gear do you work with? Anything not in your optical arsenal that you'd really like to have?

Oh. Why thank you, kind sir. I use a Canon 7D as the body. Wildlife and birds are taken with an OS Sigma 50-500 mm. I dunno if everyone wants to get gear giddy right here, so here is the link to my goods.

Of course I'd love new and improved goods, but honestly, what I've got right now gets the job done and I'm not going to complain...I do have to send a lens back to Canon to get fixed though, which sort of blows. 

What's it like being one of the dominant wildlife photographers in the Birdosphere? If you dropped this "biology" bullshit you would be huge!

Sell me. Sell me! Yea, I wouldn't complain if I could make some bucks off photos, at least enough to buy groceries. I wouldn't complain at all. That'd be pretty badass.  But at the same time, I love. I LOVE field biology. But it sucks because I'm all old and stuff now and I feel like maybe I'm the old weirdo who the rest of the crew talks about. Not that I'm paranoid, but you know what I mean. I'm 32, dude. Gross. Gives me a huge complex. However, full time gigs are not for me. And I get my kicks studying birds. I love and value what I do for money but I also love and value my play time (and sanity). Some may call me a slacker. 

It is well known that you have been cruelly persecuted by the Catholic Church and repeatedly denied help by the health insurance industry for chronic debilitating pain. Right-wing America is out to get you. Yet you continue to thrive in the midst of it all. Surely your drive to go on is based on a strong desire to see a certain bird....what is it????

True statements, my friend.  My willpower actually stems from (shade-grown) coffee, yerba mate, and IPA. That, and a need for justice and revenge. I dunno. I have dreams about Fork-tailed Flycatchers on a fairly regular basis. And sadly, there was one just a couple hours from me recently. I failed to acknowledge it for various reasons. I need/crave another Central America trip in the near future (so your CR blogs aren't really helping with that, mmkay?). I see what I see, and I'm always pumped to see it. Because in the end, I'm not picky. I love birds (and all wildlife), and it all puts a big dorky smile on small dorky face. I'm so embarrassed right now.