It Doesn't Make Sense To The Dull And The Dense

In December 1995, when I first started working for Disney Animation in Florida, I made sure that about thirty people a day hit their head against a large pane of glass.

For the record, this was not something that the animation artists were encouraged to do. Evil actions definitely fell outside of the wholesome Disney spirit that the company worked hard to cultivate, but I must confess to a mischievous smile every time I heard each gentle: "BUMP!"

Let me explain...

The Disney Feature Animation Studio in Orlando was actually located in a Theme Park. And so, in addition to the thrilling rollercoaster rides and exciting opportunities to meet Mickey Mouse, visiting tourists were also offered the chance to walk through a soundproof glass corridor in the middle of our office, and watch dozens of Disney Animators working hard at their desks. Everything that the public saw was real, and when I first joined the crew to work on "Mulan", my desk was situated right next to the tour corridor, as a main focus of the attraction.

Basically, I was a featured animal in an animation zoo.

Due to a curious "error", Disney installed the incorrect base section of my desk, lifting it up higher than it would normally sit. To compensate for this "mistake", they gave me a very tall chair, and by a strange “quirk of fate", this brought my head just high enough for the people walking on the tour to get a perfect view, of a very uncomfortable and awkward-looking British simpleton.

To be fair, I was warned about this part of the job before I accepted the position. New artists on the animation team had to "pay their dues" by serving some time on display to the public, in what was affectionately known as the "fishbowl". A colleague once returned from a visit to the pharmacy with some new innersoles for a pair of shoes. He sat at his desk, cut the innersoles to size, and fitted them perfectly inside the footwear. Then, in a moment usually reserved for private times or fine cheeses, he gave the opening of his shoe a sniff, just in time for his eyes to shift focus to the people on the animation tour, staring back at him from behind the glass.

Any time my nose itched, I performed a scratch to a crowd of people. Every moment I was on the phone and scrawling mindlessly on a piece of paper, I looked up to see twenty pairs of eyes staring closely at my every little movement.

And then...

BUMP!

I looked up from my ludicrously tall desk one morning, and saw a tourist rubbing his head. He darted his eyes from side to side in embarrassment, as members of his family laughed.

BUMP!

Ten minutes later, another sightseer rubbed his head.

I smiled at the amusing coincidence, and went back to work, until:

BUMP!

BUMP! BUMP!

All morning, the tourists seemed strangely intent on concussion, and for the life of me I couldn’t understand why. Then, as I was getting ready to break for lunch, the mystery was solved as I watched a lady noticing a drawing that I’d put on the ledge next to the glass window to my left.

Mesmerized by the opportunity to see a real animation drawing, she looked closer, and then closer still. In her eyes I could see her fascination grow; wow, a real life, honest to goodness Walt Disn...

BUMP!

Too fixated on the image, and less intent on remembering that she was standing next to a window, her head slowly leaned forward until it made a gentle, but definite impact with the glass.

This went on all afternoon. After a while, I experimented with the position of the drawing, and found the optimum location for maximum amusement.

BUMP! BUMP! BUMP!

What fun! This really was the happiest place on Earth!**

**[In case any Disney executives are reading this, I’d just like to point out that none of the above injuries in this story are true. No tourists have ever been hurt as a result of this entirely made-up aspect of the story, and obviously, if ever I saw someone in trouble, I always did my best to help them and make their stay at Walt Disney World as magical as possible.]

Meanwhile twenty five years later, I watched in fascination as a red-bellied woodpecker explored the wooden lattice frame of my "sukkah" (the small temporary hut in my backyard, featured in last week's article). The amazing black, white and red bird was obviously on the hunt for a bug breakfast, as it darted around, expertly exploring various crevices, stopping to drill, and creating that unique, unmistakable vibrating sound.

Using their beaks, these fascinating birds can peck up to 20 times per second. This results in around 12,000 pecks a day, which is roughly 10 times greater than the impact needed to cause concussion in humans. When a woodpecker strikes an object, it creates a large force on its beak, but the bird’s anatomy is beautifully designed to prevent it from injury.

For starters, a woodpecker's brain is surrounded by a thick layer of spongy bone. This creates a cushioned shock absorption system to reduce the force of impact. Additional protection is provided by a bony structure that starts in its mouth, wraps around its skull, and attaches between the eyes. This also acts like a seatbelt around its brain to hold it in place and prevent bruising as the head rattles around.

Oh, and woodpeckers also have a third inner eyelid, which stops their eyeballs from popping out when they peck.

This sounds almost alien, and a little bit unpleasant, but the bird actually displays some wonderful characteristics that humans can certainly learn from.

In Native American Astrology, the woodpecker is the seventh sign of the zodiac. Western tribes associated the bird with strength, luck, kindness, and determination. Woodpecker bones and feathers have traditionally been used to adorn ceremonial objects, and the image of the bird can often be found carved on totem poles.

Woodpeckers can also teach us about male and female equality. Research shows that the birds are monogamous, and breeding pairs stay together for most, if not all of their lives. Males forage primarily on trunks of trees, while females hunt mostly on limbs and branches. Females also forage higher on the trees than males. Together in equal partnership, they make a nest twice a year, and both parents feed and brood their chicks. In times of plenty, they have even been known to store food away to eat later.

When a predator comes close, red-bellied woodpeckers either hide, or try to scare it away with alarm calls. They aggressively defend their nest, and they may even go on the attack against a stronger enemy to protect their chicks.

In the current Coronapocalypse pandemic, life can often feel difficult and frustrating, but there is a lesson to be learned from every experience. Woodpeckers see value in the most hopeless of things, like a dead tree or a fallen branch, which they use and find something good from it. My visitor today wasn't afraid to look around a strange new environment, and even when I joined him to get a closer look, he bravely continued his exploration, until he apparently found what he was looking for, and flew away.

I read that in addition to bugs found in trees, woodpeckers also eat a wide variety of fruits, nuts, berries and seeds. This year my sunflowers have grown very successfully; for every one seed planted, I have harvested at least a hundred new ones from the beautiful blooms. I'm saving some of them to grow new flowers next year, but I'll also put some out for the woodpeckers to eat.

Survival shouldn't always be like banging your head against a wall.