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# Bird man adds color to life
- URL: https://www.smdp.com/bird-man-adds-color-to-life-editor/
- Published: 2004-09-07T15:00:00.000Z
- Updated: 2026-10-23T05:01:13.000Z
- Author: Guest Author
- Tags: Opinion, Venice, #archive-import, Homeless

*By Mike Bongarzone Venice*

About 12 years ago I came across an “apparently” homeless person in Santa Monica. Someone, I’m not sure who, told me he was the bird man. He always had a bike, a beach cruiser of sort, with bags of cans and recyclables on it. I several times tested him, yelled out “bird man!” to which he always whole heartedly replied with an excellent rendition of a bird call. Something about the guy, but I knew my asking him to perform brightened his day.

About seven or eight years ago when my niece and nephew were visiting with my mother I happened upon the bird man in Santa Monica. I told them, as we drove up near him, the stories. We rolled down the windows and I gave the obligatory yell, he responded in kind, very kind. He made me look like a local to my relatives, and gave them a story to remember. The bird man represents the eclectic nature brought on by Santa Monica and Southern California in general. It’s what I have clung to in my 13 years here.

As I write this, I look down at the date on my computer — 13 years today, Aug. 28\. I arrived in California. Today as I drove down Wilshire towards my home in Venice, as I approached Ocean Avenue, I saw the bird man. Oddly enough he was perched on a city box next to the light on the opposite corner. I was ready to yell “bird man.” As I inched closer to the intersection I put down my window, I was ready to verbalize something, but realized he was already in a conversation which was directed at me.

It took me a few minutes to grasp, jump in, and understand where he was coming from. He told me his bike had been stolen and that he now had a new bike — not as nice, only three sprockets in the back. I told him that I thought this bike was really cool, but saw the sense of loss in his eyes. He appreciated me listening for the 15 to 20 seconds before the light changed and I had to move. I was trying to think quickly and make a last statement that might encourage him a bit.

Probably not the best but I said, “that’s a sorta cool bike but I’m sorry about your other bike.”

He replied, “Thanks,” with a smile. I felt good and felt a sense of kindness rolling off this guy. He was OK. He was happy.

Light changed, I pulled away. What I forgot to mention, is that when I first pulled up and heard his “conversation” he precluded it with a rooster call.

My nephew Jesse who passed away two years ago, at the age of 17, heard the bird man and he laughed.

Laughter is cool.

*Originally published in the Santa Monica Daily Press print edition on September 7, 2004.* [Read the original PDF.](https://s3.us-east-1.amazonaws.com/smdp%5Fbackissues/090704.pdf?ref=smdp.com)