The bird survives

I’m driving east on 5&20 this morning (Wednesday, November 5, 2008), taking the dog to the so-called elitist country-club via the Bloomfield post-office, where I’m gonna deposit a postage-paid junk application for a credit-card.
As I travel east, I notice a large pheasant or something standing in the road.
To avoid hitting it, I arrow around it, missing it by about eight feet.
It doesn’t move.
About 200 yards behind me is a white Ram pickup with a hood-scoop.
It’s headed right toward the bird — am I gonna see violence and mayhem in my rear-view mirror?
Right at the last moment the bird escapes, narrowly missing certain death.
The Ram hasn’t deviated from its path at all.
Oh well, mayhem avoided I continue toward Bloomfield, but looking in my rear-view I suddenly see that Ram is right on my tail.
“Uh-ohhh......” I think. I have the awful temerity and unmitigated gall and horrific audacity to only be doing five miles-per-hour over the speed-limit, instead of 25.
Ram is being driven by young macho dude, a glowering intimidator — he was probably trying to lunch that bird. (“Immense Powah!”)
I wick it up to 65 or so through a valley, but macho-dude keeps riding my bumper. He’s thumping the steering-wheel and yelling epithets.
But he didn’t pass; couldn’t — slowed to follow me and go ballistic.
We enter Bloomfield, where the speed-limit is 35; and cops are always waiting with radar-traps.
I had the awful temerity and unmitigated gall and horrific audacity to slow to 35 mph — macho-dude is angrily flashing his headlights at me.
I turn north toward the post-office, and macho-dude roars by on the right shoulder, stones a-flying, continuing straight on 5&20.
He never passed, so I couldn’t see if he had a Dubya-sticker.
But I did see he had a tattered Confederate flag in his rear window, Calvin peeing on the Ford-Oval, a #24 decal, and a sign that said “my wife, yes; my dog, maybe; my gun, never!”
The bird survives.

“5&20” is the main east-west road through our area; State Route 5 and U.S. Route 20, both on the same road. 5&20 is just south of where we live.

Our current dog is “Scarlett;” a rescue Irish-Setter. She’s three-plus, and is our sixth Irish-Setter.

“The so-called elitist country-club” is nearby Boughton (“BOW-tin” as in “ow”) Park, where I run and we walk our dog. It was called that long ago by an editor at the Canandaigua Daily-Messenger newspaper, where I once worked, because it will only allow taxpayers of the three towns that own it to use it. We are residents of one of those towns.

A “glowering intimidator” is a tailgater, named after Dale Earnhardt, deceased, the so-called “intimidator” of NASCAR fame, who used to tailgate race-leaders and bump them at speed until they let him pass.

“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.

“Calvin” is the nasty child character in the Calvin-and-Hobbs cartoon.

NASCAR race-driver Jeff Gordon uses the #24 number. My blowhard brother-in-Boston thinks he’s a whiner, a cheat; and calls him “the little twerp.”