New York Times heir Arthur Sulzberger currently writes metro stories for the paper he’s going to maybe publish one day. We’ve been following his career since day one, waiting patiently for him to someday write the perfect Daily Intel story. Today is that day. Behold the Sulzberger prose, unleashed in this morning’s paper, regarding a dude who lost the parrot belonging to his girlfriend’s boss:
He chased it from rooftop to windowsill to billboard, in sun and rain. He tried to lure it with nuts, and gentle words. Each time he got near, the bird would take off, mocking him with its bright red tail plumage. His main company during his search was a rotating cast of curious onlookers, who paused to watch and make helpful observations like, “It’s a parrot” and “He’s not supposed to be up there.” And now, around noon on Sunday, Mr. Guido scaled a scaffold where the bird was resting. “Come on, boy, come on, be a good boy,” he cooed, hands out and body low as he approached. He pounced. The bird flew away, wagging its colorful rear feathers at him. “I give up,” he said, dejected, after climbing down the scaffold. “It’s been two days.”
The man, 55-year-old Frank Guido, eventually caught the macaw after a 26-hour romp — without the help of the fire department or animal control, both of which he called. But the real hero here is A.G. Sulzberger, who quoted a bystander as saying, merely, “It’s a parrot” for the first time in New York Times history.