Wednesday, June 02, 2004
It wasn't even 7:00 am.
It happened.
I've always known it was just a matter of time. If I biked long enough, it would happen despite me not wanting it to.
This morning, at 6:58 am on First Street NE, Washington DC, I hit a squirrel.
I had no chance in hell of not hitting this little squirrel.
He changed his mind FOUR times. And, since squirrels can't change their mind without changing their direction a hundred and eighty degrees, that last change of mind did him in.
Actually, he/she ran away after I ran over him/her, so it's not clear if he/she was done in or not.
OK. So I was booking along on the bike, just turned south from Massachusetts Ave onto First Street at Union Station. It is ever so slightly downhill. There was no cars on that particular block of First at that particular moment. First Street is four lanes wide. Four wide lanes.
The park is to my right. I see a little squirrel hop out into the street from the park and I think happy thoughts along the line of "Cute, squirrel, what a great morning." The squirrel is a very safe distance from me, at least fifty feet, and heading across the road. Heading _away_ from me (I'm in the right half of the right lane).
Squirrel sees me once he is halfway across the road. Even though the squirrel does that insane "holy fucking shit!" maneuver of simultaneously stopping dead, knifing the tail into a upright crook, and completely heading in the opposite direction, he is very far in front of me.
I'm still not worried. The squirrel can not only make it back into the park with no chance of me hitting him, he can make it safely up a tree if he stays his course.
But no. He's an effing squirrel with watch springs for a brain so of course once he jumps the curb and hits the grass, he repeats the "holy fucking shit!" maneuver and heads back into the street.
I see this but am still not concerned. The squirrel can still cross in front of me (again), heading across the street now, and be completely safe. Miraculously there are still no cars.
I stay my course and speed. I have stopped pedaling at this point. Maybe I was a little concerned.
But, being a squirrel and never feeling _completely_ safe because, well, squirrels are incapable of making decisions that insure their welfare, this little nut chucker pulls the even-faster "holy fucking shit!" move _again_.
OK. There is still time for the squirrel to pass in front of me for the FOURTH time. I stay my course. Tap the breaks. Still coasting (rather fast).
All was right in the world. The little spastic squirrel was going to make it. But NO. He had barely cleared my line of travel when, yes, ONE MORE TIME says to himself "HOLY FUCKING SHIT!" and runs exactly back in front of my tire. I thought "DON'T BREAK!" and to hopped my weight up just enough to know that I did so. I did not, though, actually hop the bike over the squirrel, there just wasn't time.
The squirrel probably doesn't think I made an effort not to kill it. A very definite tire/bike/rider ran over a very freaked out little squirrel. The thud was solid.
To his credit, it's not even clear that I hit him with my back tire. He was up and running so fast that he was across the road (in a straight, un-squirrel-like manor) before I looked ahead again.
Hopefully he's OK. The two ladies at the bus stop saw the whole thing. They too were half amazed, half-pitiful, and half smiling at the absurdity of the whole thing. I kind of shook my head, sort of smiling but almost shrugging to convey that I didn't have a chance.
Maybe the little squirrel has a blog.
I've always known it was just a matter of time. If I biked long enough, it would happen despite me not wanting it to.
This morning, at 6:58 am on First Street NE, Washington DC, I hit a squirrel.
I had no chance in hell of not hitting this little squirrel.
He changed his mind FOUR times. And, since squirrels can't change their mind without changing their direction a hundred and eighty degrees, that last change of mind did him in.
Actually, he/she ran away after I ran over him/her, so it's not clear if he/she was done in or not.
OK. So I was booking along on the bike, just turned south from Massachusetts Ave onto First Street at Union Station. It is ever so slightly downhill. There was no cars on that particular block of First at that particular moment. First Street is four lanes wide. Four wide lanes.
The park is to my right. I see a little squirrel hop out into the street from the park and I think happy thoughts along the line of "Cute, squirrel, what a great morning." The squirrel is a very safe distance from me, at least fifty feet, and heading across the road. Heading _away_ from me (I'm in the right half of the right lane).
Squirrel sees me once he is halfway across the road. Even though the squirrel does that insane "holy fucking shit!" maneuver of simultaneously stopping dead, knifing the tail into a upright crook, and completely heading in the opposite direction, he is very far in front of me.
I'm still not worried. The squirrel can not only make it back into the park with no chance of me hitting him, he can make it safely up a tree if he stays his course.
But no. He's an effing squirrel with watch springs for a brain so of course once he jumps the curb and hits the grass, he repeats the "holy fucking shit!" maneuver and heads back into the street.
I see this but am still not concerned. The squirrel can still cross in front of me (again), heading across the street now, and be completely safe. Miraculously there are still no cars.
I stay my course and speed. I have stopped pedaling at this point. Maybe I was a little concerned.
But, being a squirrel and never feeling _completely_ safe because, well, squirrels are incapable of making decisions that insure their welfare, this little nut chucker pulls the even-faster "holy fucking shit!" move _again_.
OK. There is still time for the squirrel to pass in front of me for the FOURTH time. I stay my course. Tap the breaks. Still coasting (rather fast).
All was right in the world. The little spastic squirrel was going to make it. But NO. He had barely cleared my line of travel when, yes, ONE MORE TIME says to himself "HOLY FUCKING SHIT!" and runs exactly back in front of my tire. I thought "DON'T BREAK!" and to hopped my weight up just enough to know that I did so. I did not, though, actually hop the bike over the squirrel, there just wasn't time.
The squirrel probably doesn't think I made an effort not to kill it. A very definite tire/bike/rider ran over a very freaked out little squirrel. The thud was solid.
To his credit, it's not even clear that I hit him with my back tire. He was up and running so fast that he was across the road (in a straight, un-squirrel-like manor) before I looked ahead again.
Hopefully he's OK. The two ladies at the bus stop saw the whole thing. They too were half amazed, half-pitiful, and half smiling at the absurdity of the whole thing. I kind of shook my head, sort of smiling but almost shrugging to convey that I didn't have a chance.
Maybe the little squirrel has a blog.
Monday, May 31, 2004
Art in the Park
For those of you living near our Nation's Capitol, please go enjoy the Shakespeare Theatre's Free for All 2004 production of Much Ado About Nothing.
It runs from now until June 6, is located at the gorgeous Carter Barron Amphitheater in Rock Creek Park, and is an absolutely fantastic production.
The set is impressive and airy, the stage movements are well choreographed and clean, and it is set in the 1920s with flapper dresses and long coattails.
Get out and see it.
It runs from now until June 6, is located at the gorgeous Carter Barron Amphitheater in Rock Creek Park, and is an absolutely fantastic production.
The set is impressive and airy, the stage movements are well choreographed and clean, and it is set in the 1920s with flapper dresses and long coattails.
Get out and see it.
Hear the Little Birdies Sing
Note that it is 7:02 am, I've already had breakfast, and am dressed and ready to go for a bike ride.
Also note that it is a holiday and I am exceedingly proud to be up this early ready to go for a bike ride.
Happy Memorial Day!
Also note that it is a holiday and I am exceedingly proud to be up this early ready to go for a bike ride.
Happy Memorial Day!
