Long and Winding

10 Nov

I’m in rural Illinois for a big scary work project, staying in a town that is not only small but seems to have traveled back in time. I mean, they have a Hardee’s and their high school mascot is “the Indians.” Not even something specifically offensive like the Mohawks or the Chippewas (my own HS mascot) but just plain “Indians.”

The ladies at the city recorder are very nice and the front desk clerk hasn’t murdered me, so this is a successful trip.

Yesterday was the Sabbath and my day off. I decided to drive 30 miles for breakfast because, well, what the hell else am I going to do anyway? I was tailed by a vehicle that was, I believe, a mix of a stretch Hummer limo and a dually.

At one point, I saw a fluff of road kill that was black and white. And I really and truly had this thought: “Oh, someone hit a panda.”

You guys, I really thought that:

a) there was a panda in rural Illinois

b) that this panda was allowed to wander farm country

c) that someone hit one AND

d) that someone hitting a panda was normal enough that the road kill wasn’t cleaned up and the entire road was not shut down so the person who hit the lone panda in Illinois could be strung up and hanged. 

Anyway, it was a skunk. 

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