I hear the Vincent’s Ear bird. Do you?

I’ve heard it for years, and it haunts me. The bird starts up every spring, letting go with a loud, throaty call that should be instantly recognizable to any Asheville resident of long-standing. After a half-chirp preamble, the call is given its full, lusty vent: “VIN-cent’s ear. VIN-cent’s ear. Hoit, hoit, hoit, hoit.” (Anyone carrying around a guilty secret is more likely to hear it as “IN-sincere. IN-sincere. Hoit,” etc. etc.) …

I spent last summer scouring bird books, semi-harassed by the relentless Vincent’s Ear Bird and determined to identify it. … On a recent walk, I finally isolated the feathered culprit when it had the good manners to reveal itself singing solo on a telephone wire. To my surprise, and admitted disappointment, the Vincent’s Ear Bird was no rare species but merely an ordinary male cardinal. (Most bird books represent the cardinal’s call as “what cheer, what cheer”—I figure the more ornate Vincent’s-Ear call must be a warm-weather mating song.)

Starting up in spring, as it does, the Vincent’s Ear Bird makes me naturally pine for the namesake coffeehouse/live-music space that used to issue its own unique song or two, down on Lexington Avenue. Vincent’s Ear, the venue, also offered genius caffeinated beverages yet to be matched by any other local cafe. Who among its former patrons doesn’t recall the nearly narcotic La-Di-Da-Di-Toddy? It was a chocolate-laced iced-coffee concoction packing a buzz that was exhilarating and nearly scary—you could do iffy things after two Toddies (quit your job, kiss a stranger).

For me, the La-Di-Da-Di-Toddy is synonymous with spring fever—the urge for one used to blossom about the same time as do the weeping-cherry trees. And, with a tear or two for an Asheville institution that arguably took the town’s cultural personality with it when it flew (or was forced) away, I offer a salute to the faith-keeping Vincent’s Ear Bird. I still think of it as wearing black feathers, not red. After all, it has a reputation to maintain.

— Melanie M. Bianchi, A&E editor