Today........

.........(Tuesday, November 20, 2007) I was proceeding west (north, south, east; WHATEVER; how could I possibly know? Looked west to me) on Jefferson Road in deepest, darkest Henrietta (south of Rochester) in the Bucktooth Bathtub, headed for CompUSA to buy some rewritable CDs.
I had already completed two errands: -A) the drive-up mailboxes at the main Rochester post-office in Henrietta, and -B) the Funky Food Store to pick up a jar of no-salt spaghetti-sauce along with a case of puffed-rice cereal I had ordered.
The post-office was to deposit two return-postage credit-card solicitations — we have taken to sealing up these things with junk inside. If they wanna shower us with junk like that, they can just get junk in return, and pay the postage.
We used to do this, but fell out of it, because doing so ate up precious seconds.
But now we’re retired, so can. Sealing up takes about 30 seconds, and hitting the mailbox is often along-the-way to other errands.
The puffed-rice cereal is one of the things I eat for breakfast. The usual major-mills cereals have way too much salt; and ya notice it.
Same with the spaghetti-sauce. Horror-of-horrors, yaz all ate no-salt spaghetti-sauce and whole-wheat spaghetti with nary a whimper. “Wassa matter wit you guys; doncha believe in salt?” the bluster-boy bellowed. Give him a salt-lick.
Yaz also ate ground-beef that was frozen last April; and it was July, for crying out loud.
So here I am motoring placidly west on Jefferson Road. It goes up and over Route 15 in a jumpover that was built long ago, alleviating a major traffic tie up.
Descending the other side, ya come upon the parking-lot entrance to the minimall where CompUSA is (hard by a colonoscopy clinic). It’s marked one-way as an entrance.
A fortyish dude is arrowing his maroon Corolla toward the entrance from inside the parking-lot, obviously planning to exit. No matter he’s driving the wrong way into a parking-lot entrance.
So here I am on a main highway approaching the entrance, and fortyish dude is planning to exit the entrance.
I slow down, so fortyish-dude accelerates and heads farther into the entrance.
At first it was looking like I should drive around him, but by then I had no choice: come to almost a complete stop on the highway and then turn in before hitting him.
Sorry chillen; couldn’t see if he had a Dubya-sticker. That woulda been on the trunk; and all I could see was the front of the approaching Corolla and the driver.

RE: “west (north, south, east; WHATEVER; how could I possibly know?) —My loudmouthed macho brother-from-Boston and I have been having an argument about which way a road goes in northern Delaware, where we grew up; me as a teenager. I say the road goes west-east; he says it goes north-south. Actually it goes northwest-southeast.

“Deepest, darkest Henrietta” is a rather effusive and obnoxious suburb of Rochester.

“The Bucktooth-Bathtub” is our 2005 Toyota Sienna van; called that because it’s white and like sitting in a bathtub, and appears to have a bucktooth on the grill.

“The funky food-market” is Lori’s Natural Foods, south of Rochester in Henrietta — a source for salt-free cereal, sauce, etc.

“The bluster-boy” is my all-knowing, blowhard brother-in-Boston, Jack, who noisily badmouths everything I do or say. He visited in July, with many of my other siblings.

RE: “Horror-of-horrors, yaz all ate no-salt spaghetti-sauce and whole-wheat spaghetti with nary a whimper.” My siblings all pig out, and think I’m reprehensible for eating healthy.

RE: “Ground-beef that was frozen last April; and it was July, for crying out loud......” I’ve been noisily badmouthed for not glomming a whole package of ground beef in a single sitting. We hardly ever eat red meat. Ground-beef gets frozen in tiny packages.

U.S. “Route 15” used to be the main north-south road into Rochester. Now it’s Interstate-390. “Jefferson Road” (state Route 251) is the main east-west road through the area.

RE: “Hard by a colonoscopy clinic......” —My blowhard macho brother-in-Boston’s colonoscopy was performed in a suburban mininall clinic, which he noisily claims was far superior to mine, which was performed in a hospital.

“Chillen” are my all-knowing siblings, and they are all tub-thumping REPUBLICANS.

“Dubya-sticker” is a Bush-Cheney 2004 bumper-sticker. All insane traffic-moves seem to involve Bush-supporters. They seem to think they have the right.