In honor of two little birds, without whom I believe I would not be here today,
I dedicate this sound studio.

In an event that sounds more like an episode of the Twilight Zone than reality ever should, history was altered forever.

Exactly how and why I found myself in the middle of that intersection I'll never know. What I do remember is that everything was very still and totally silent. Nothing was right yet everything seemed fine. I, in my vehicle, was in the middle of an intersection with two lanes of oncoming traffic bumper up to my passenger side door. No horns. Not a peep. Glancing up at the traffic signal I quickly realized my error. A flashing red light. Having pulled my car back to the stop line traffic began to flow as if nothing had occurred. While I had no traffic behind me I took a moment to reflect on what had just happened.

Had I just fallen asleep at the wheel? Why did I stop smack-dab in the middle of a major downtown intersection for a red light? Why were these people so polite to the fact that I was totally impeding their motion? And just where were all these people going at 6 o'clock on a sunday morning anyway? Absolutely none of it made sense. I considered myself very lucky and continued on my way to work.

It turned out to be a typical day at the cafe. Money came in fist over mug. I was lit up on iced espresso. My shift ended and I picked up my usual hummus/cucumber bagel-wich from the shop next door and made my way home. Reflecting on the strange morning, I was really looking forward sitting down in my big red chair at home.

I can't remember if I ever actually ate that sandwich.

I arrived home to the horror of one of the birds having just been discovered dead. THIS IS NOT WHAT I WAS SUPPOSED TO COME HOME TO. I knew that he was alive when I had left, seven hours ago, that morning. I also knew enough, learning from animals I had in the past, to tell he had been dead for several hours before being discovered. It had been a particularly warm start to March so the ground was thawed already. One thing we had going for us. His grave was dug in the pet cemetery underneath the rose bush, just outside the back door of the apartment, and we sadly laid our little friend to rest. This day was becoming too weird.

It was probably around then that I forgot about the sandwich.

There was a a thorough cleaning and check to make sure no one was acting peculiar or visibly looked ill. There were nine birds at the time. Being that none of them had exhibited any signs of sickness this was of considerable concern. That was when it happened.

He was a little yellow bird named Cheech. A lutino cockatiel actually. Bright yellow plumage, the orangest pies in the gang, a crown that reached the sky, and boy could he sing. We were convinced he was a Jazz musician in a former incarnation. That bird could wail! He had learned The Lovin' Spoonfuls song "Daydreamin" and would take that tune and just go. He was always so happy. You could tell he truly enjoyed being part of the family. There was no one who came around that little bird didn't want to know. The thing is, Cheech too died that day.

Now try to follow me here...

On March 14 (3/14) at 3:14pm Cheech said goodbye to me as I held him in my hands. The sun was shining. The breeze was warm. Pi (3.14) played a sick joke on me that day...or did it.

The scenario I just described is an honest and trueful account of my life for Pi Day 2004, the day of Sunday, March 14, 2004. To what degree the death of these two little birds played in my confounded avoidance of a major automobile collision I will never know. I mean I KNOW what happened. But how is it all connected?There is a big word here, coincidence. What if this was all just a coincidence? What if this was just a bizarr occurrence of the space time continuum. Why do numbers have to be so significant? Why does this have to be so similar to the "No Quarter" incident? Is there any correlation? There are so many unanswered questions. I have my beliefs.

Cheech joins parakeets Isis, Budgie, Huey, Bluellow, Samba, and Eelie, and the rats Spud and Cashew beneath the rose bush in the Pet Cemetary.

It is in love and memory of those two birds and all my other little friends who have visited and since passed that I have dedicated this sound studio. The foundation of it's catalog being the remanants of the work of Greenfield Laboratories, may it's memory too live on bright.




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