My thoughts on the bird on the right: I bet he came from a wealthy bird family that lived in the high upper parts of birdville. "I live among them, but I am not one of them." he would say because he hated the ritzy life. Consumerism and social status were as meaningless to him as a water cooler to a fish. One thing that his "good people" family always kept as a strong tradition was the act of sticking their beaks high in the air whenever someone they considered unworthy came into their sight. His brother Truman would roll in the joy of doing it, but ol' Evan would never succumb to such prearranged rudeness. One day, Evan met the bird on the left, Patrick. The most humble, intelligent, and loyal bird you ever would have laid your peepers on. He haled from the bad side of the tracks and worked as a beak polisher. (Ironically, Evan's father's favorite beak polisher to use.) Once acquainted, Evan and Patrick became fast friends. They were never seen apart. Evan was ignored by his family due to his "bad taste" and Evan was given the cold shoulder by his for hanging out with a bird of such rude and discriminating upbringing. But one day, Evan and Patrick had the biggest of falling outs. Evan thought they should fly one direction, Patrick thought another. They didn't speak the rest of that day, or the next, or the next after that. After several years of no communication they reunited and Evan flipped up his beak in disapproval. Patrick rolled his eyes.
The moral of the story is!: It does not do any good to make mountains out of very small molehills.
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