Are Angry Birds to blame?

When we last left Harry, he was walking across a deserted soccer field wondering where were all the kids who should be outside playing on such a perfect Sunday afternoon.

ARE ANGRY BIRDS THE CULPRIT?

No, not angry birds like in the Alfred Hitchcock movie thriller “The Birds”.

There are families with the last name Bird, but none live in this community. So can’t be those kind of angry Birds.

These are no birds on the rampage because there are no seeds to eat. This is the Sunbelt. Plenty of food.

The birds are not angry because there’s no one to play with. They should be delighted that there are no little people frolicking on the vast green soccer field ready to flick them with a pebble from their slingshot.

As you might imagine, I, Fairy, have the answer.

These Angry Birds I am writing about are what’s keeping an otherwise impossible-to-deal-with 4-year-old out of his parents hair.

His parents are resisting the urge to dig in to the Angry Birds phenomenon. Actually, they probably have already “signed on” at work without telling each other.

Angry Birds, I recently learned, is the latest computerized game to which “kids” of all ages are becoming addicted. The game challenges players to catapult birds at structures containing egg-stealing pigs.

The 4-year-old’s siblings are already deep into it.

Teenagers are too.

No age limit, no education required, just some fun, if you’re up to it. And of course, some technological acumen helps. No problem for the 4-year-old.

These angry birds are keeping little kids quiet and allowing computer workers stuck in cubicles to stay entertained and even letting Grandma and Grandpa supplement their Crossword and Sudoku puzzles for a go at it and actually have fun in their recliners.

We’ve seen trendy crazes like this before; there was the Hula Hoop, the Rubik’s Cube, the first Pac-Man game, etc.

I don’t think this is some underground subversive plot.

Wait a minute, maybe I do.

Could the developer, who is trying to sell more homes in the area, have forbidden the little monsters from going out and playing on the soccer and baseball fields, wanting the fields to remain in pristine condition to entice the potential home buyers that are coming along? Homebuyers, like the little monsters’ parents before them, who just might want to buy because there are pristine soccer and baseball fields for their little ones to play on????

Who is to blame? Angry Birds, a plot by the developers, neighbors moving in and out so no one knows each other? No one to organize the kids? A feeling that it is not safe to let the kids go outside and play?

So many possibilities. Harry’s revealing statistics say all of these could be the answer.

But why??

Where did all the kids go?

It was hard to believe that I, Harry, could have such a beautiful soccer field all to myself on a perfect Sunday afternoon.

But there I was, walking across acres of manicured grass. The sky was overcast. The day was crisp and remarkably unwindy. Maybe about 60 degrees. As I said: Perfect.

Surveying the field in my isolation, I remarked to myself that, in addition to soccer, it would be a great place for a pick-up game of touch football. Or just someone with a baseball bat hitting some pop flies to a kid or two.

Of course, there was a baseball field nearby for that. But that too, I noted, was equally devoid of human activity.

I continued on with my walk. Adjacent to the soccer field was another grassy area. There were trees and small hills. A perfect place for a game of tag, I thought. Or an imaginary gunfight between cowboys and Indians (Native Americans?). Or basic tree climbing.

Alas, there was no one there as well.

I spent the rest of my walk wondering: Where are the kids? Do any of them play outside anymore when there are no organized activities?

I Googled it and, as with most everything, I discovered other people have been wondering the same thing.

I stumbled upon a survey by something called Planet Ark and read that while 65 percent of parents say they explored nature, now only 28 percent of kids do.

Some 64 percent of parents say they climbed trees, but only 19 percent of kids do these days.

Another 66 percent of parents say they skipped rope or played hopscotch while only 29 percent of kids do now.

I read a few blogs and learned that technology seems to shoulder the most blame for kids staying inside a lot. There's the Internet and Facebook and Twitter and cell phones with text messaging and all kinds of computer games. Not to mention a zillion channels on the big-screen, high-def TV.

Let's face it. Being inside is a lot more interesting these days.

How many of these kids would be in the house if all there was inside was one crummy channel on TV with a grainy black and white picture showing Kate Smith singing some crummy song?

That would get 'em outside. Of course, then I’d have to share my soccer field.

No more hiding under the desk

Survival has come a long ways since the 1950s when we were supposed to believe that hiding under our school desk would somehow protect us from a Russian nuclear attack.

Talk about a sturdy desk!

Survival has become big business. For example, there's a company in the Pacific Northwest called The Survival Center. It offers a huge fully-stocked submarine-type structure that it will bury on your property. It will keep a group of five safe from every outside threat imaginable for a long time.

Hope those five people get along OK.

I have no idea what the price tag may be. I suspect it's like owning a yacht: If you have to ask what the price is, you probably can't afford it.

I also see that some companies offer survival food – MREs (Meals Ready to Eat) – with a hefty price tag. Some sell in the $6.50 range per meal. Give me the 15-cent Top Ramen.

Fortunately for most of us, surviving means mostly having to get by without electricity for a relatively short period of time.

And we've all seen those lists: Water, batteries, radio, matches, etc., etc.

In spite of our urgings, our children still don't keep an adequate supply of drinking water and emergency foods on hand.

In case of a typical emergency, there's no place like home. We have about 20 gallons of drinking water. We have a camp stove with two dozen or so propane cylinders. We have rice and beans and canned goods. Also matches, batteries and all that stuff.

I have read that food in the freezer will last 48 hours or less without electricity.

That means if we lost power today, Fairy and I would have to dine on salmon, shrimp, escargot and mahi-mahi for the next two days.

I also read that municipal water systems are designed to keep water flowing for extended periods.

So, it would be hot in the summer and cold-ish in the winter. But, given the choice, I think I would prefer that to a cot in a school gym.

So that brings us back to having an escape hatch in case of the really big emergency when all services are lost and mob rule become a real danger.

I wonder if Fairy is having any luck.