DAMASCUS — DAMASCUS - Sure, Brian Wilson can tell you all about his passion for parrots. It is a bond that spurred him to act two weeks ago when he got an emergency request to rescue 81 exotic birds from caged filth at a Gaithersburg townhouse.
But the 53-year-old disabled ex-firefighter prefers demonstrating just how well he clicks with these brainy, vocal creatures that can live up to a century.
He runs a parrot foundation from his Damascus home, though it seems like their house. His existing flock of several dozen macaws, cockatoos, African grays and other parrot types have the run of his living room, dining room, kitchen, back-room aviary and sun-filled garage.
To the birds he coos, "I love you." Some chatter back at him. A number can do nifty tricks.
Here's Daisy, a blue-and-gold macaw and a veteran of gun-safety classes that he has held at schools. Wilson makes a pistol with his thumb and index finger and says, "Bang!" On cue, the brilliantly plumed bird falls backward.
Here's Sweetie Pie, another blue-and-gold. Spread your palms like a gurney, and Wilson places the bird on its back. Then he performs mock CPR, with faux mouth-to-mouth and chest compressions. The bird lies there, seemingly content to be worked on by this big guy with the bright blue eyes and walrus mustache.
The most involved stunt features eight birds. After Wilson has you stand with both arms out, he puts two parrots on your shoulders, two by your elbows, two on your wrists and one where a necktie would hang. The cherry on top is Louisa, a gorgeous scarlet macaw that perches on your head.
Is Wilson a bird whisperer? He's heard it before and cherishes the belief that he has a gift. Many birds end up with him after years of neglect and a loathing for humans. They bite and refuse to be held. Time and time again, he says, he has restored their trust in people.
"If I knew how I can do it all the time," Wilson says, "I'd be a millionaire."
In fact, he's far from rich. Most of his disability pension and Social Security money goes to his Wilson Parrot Foundation, thousands a month. He scrounges for donations - spare change from tourists who see him and his birds in Old Town Alexandria, or the $250 an hour from parents who want to give Johnny a memorable birthday or bar mitzvah. Wilson says he needs to build a new aviary and one day hopes to get a small farm for the parrots.
