Flying Turkeys

I have been driving a long time. Thirty-four years to be exact. I have taught one son to drive and now am in the process of teaching my youngest to drive. It is a learning experience. He is getting better each time he drives but all totaled I believe he has been driving for a total of ten hours. There is still a long way to go.

I try to be patient but sometimes when we get in the car I drive just because I don’t feel like explaining the nuances of every move I make. We have gone over the driving manual. We have discussed every possible scenario that he might encounter and the appropriate response. We discuss them as he is driving. We discuss driving more than the president discusses nuclear proliferation.

Youngest son decides that he would like some new jeans so we plan our trip to the mall. I’m not sure which is more uncomfortable driving with him or shopping with him, so I decided to take the easy way out. I decided to be the selfish parent. I drove. The thought of teaching him to navigate the mall traffic at night, for the first time did absolutely nothing for me so I was going to be a slacker parent.

We are on the way to the mall discussing the purchase of the new jeans and out of the corner of my eye I see something coming out of the woods. Instinctively I step on the brakes and throw my arm across my son. The car slams to a stop and there in front of my car is a three-foot tall turkey. His wings were spread and his neck fully extended as he flew in front of my car. Yes the turkey flew in front of the car. I didn’t realize that turkeys could fly. I also didn’t know they were that big when they were fully extended. My son and I were stunned. I have never heard of turkeys flying out of the woods in traffic. I have heard of flying monkeys but that was in the movies.

I live in the woods. I have lived in the woods for twenty-five years. We have had reports of deer filtering into the residential neighborhoods. I have seen many deer over the years. We have ticks, lyme disease, and rabbits, I have even heard of rabid raccoons coming out in the daytime but I have never heard of flying turkeys. It sounds so absurd that I decided not to tell anyone. I mean what do you say. “Oh and by the way honey, watch out for the flying turkeys when you get near the mall.”

Perhaps the conversation would start with “ Has anyone read about the flying turkeys near the mall?” I looked in the local paper for articles on flying turkeys. I have also looked for articles on accidents involving turkeys. I haven’t seen any of those either. Not one.

I am just so thankful that I didn’t hit the turkey. Dogs or deer can really damage your car. This you could explain to your auto insurance agent and your friends. But telling the story of the flying turkey that crashed into my car story doesn’t sound quite the same. There will be a real effort to keep a straight face when telling the story so not to provoke fits of laughter. My insurance agent would have required a photo. I would have stopped and taken a picture if I hit the turkey but since I didn’t hit him there was no reason to stop and consequently there was no picture of the turkey. It was just my word against some two thousand years of history that makes no mention of flying turkeys.

I live with four men. I figured that discussing flying turkeys with the other three would only bring me immeasurable grief. I thought youngest son understood this when I said “ Let’s not bring up the turkeys!” Apparently not. Apparently the tone of my voice was not enough, I need to work on that. Hubby wanted me to tell him what happened with the turkey. Did I hit the turkey? Did the turkey make contact with the car anywhere? Did the turkey hit the bumper maybe? No, no and no. The turkey flew across the road. I stopped the car. The turkey flew past. We went to the mall. Of course, this conversation was followed by the cute turkey jokes. “Why did the turkey fly across the road? Because it was trying to beat Mom to the mall.” Oh ha ha ha . Of course this also lends itself to the cautionary statements when going to the mall. “Be careful. It’s raining really heavy and the turkeys might be out. You know how they like flying in the rain.”

I take every situation as a learning experience and this was no exception. I go to the mall a lot less. I make sure my cell phone is out where I can reach it instantly instead of my being in my pocketbook but most importantly, I have improved my communication skills with my son. “Don’t tell Dad about the damn turkey!!” I practice it in front of my mirror.

The Hairball and Plan B

I am a big believer in signs from the universe. The problem with signs is that sometimes I just don’t pay attention when the universe calls. I had a meeting to attend that held the possibility of making connections to land a job. I printed out my resume to take with me. There was a huge, glaring typo on my resume. Yes, the resume that is posted in the cosmic universe called the Internet has a typo. That was the beginning of the signs. The horror is starting to sink in. I have been looking for a job for a while and everything that I have posted in the universe has a spelling mistake. I have checked this thing a thousand times. I have had it professionally reviewed. I have sent it out countless times. That is the first thing that you learn when you go to any career job site is to check your spelling. DUH! I have to fix it. I can’t go this meeting with a screwed up resume. This will take a few minutes but I shouldn’t make me late. I print it and head out the door running. I am trying not to speed. Not speeding is much more difficult when floating around in the back of my head is the little voice screaming “You are an idiot. You should have checked the resume and now you are going to be late. HA!” in a voice that can best be described as screeching. I take a nice breath, tell the voice to shut up and slow down.

The driver of the SUV in front of me is going way below the speed limit. I am all for conscientious driving but even I have my limits. Especially when I am late. Again the voice tells me that my failure to check my resume is not the fault of the driver in front of me. Yeah, Yeah. Screeching voice be damned! The universe is screaming but I am too busy watching the SUV to notice. The driver throws something out of the window. This is one very rude driver. Just to make the picture complete, the SUV has started to swerve. Oh good, now not only am I behind a driver who is driving slower than the limit, and throwing things out of the window, they are also swerving. Apparently the universe has decided that I need something else to worry about. Then it happens again. They throw something else out of the window. This time I look to see what they are throwing out the window. It’s a ball of hair. Yes that’s right, a hairball. I didn’t see that one coming. I do a double take, but the hairball or whatever it is has blown away. I must be mistaken. Who throws hairballs out the car windows? Cats? Then it happens again. It is definitely a hairball. Now I am intrigued. How do you have a pile of extra hairballs that you suddenly feel the need to get rid of while driving? I’m not sure how that works but okay. Then the SUV slows down for a light and I get a look at the driver. It is a woman with very long hair and she is combing it angrily while driving and throwing the hair out of the window. I have been driving for thirty-four years and have never seen anyone combing their hair with the anger while driving or throwing hairballs out a window. Clearly I have led a sheltered drivinghood.

The signs just keep coming. I get to the meeting and there is no parking. There is supposed to be a lot available to park but it is full. The sign that was blocking the drive way to the Plan A lot stated that the next lot over and down about a half mile is the alternate lot. Okie dokie , I go into Plan B mode. Only difference is in the Plan B lot the parking is limited to two hours. I already know I will be longer than that. Parking longer than the allotted time requires a parking permit, which is available from the attendant in the Plan A lot. How exactly do you get the permit since the lot is full? I can’t pull in the lot without charging the sign, and knocking it over which is generally not considered a good way to impress a potential boss. I park in the plan B lot and walk the half a mile to the attendant and ask for a permit. He is not happy about the whole thing because he has to unlock his glass door and actually speak to me. He opens the door just wide enough to hear my request. Saying nothing in reply to my request, he grudgingly gives me the permit and I walk the half-mile back to my car and place the permit on the front of my dash as instructed by the attendant who didn’t wish to speak to me. Then I hike the half mile back to the building and attempt to go in the door where the attendant who didn’t wish to speak to me has again resumed hiding behind his glass door. This time he won’t let me in the door. Since I am not parked in the plan A lot I can’t walk in that door and have to go around to the front of the building. I’m not parked in the A lot because it was full. It’s not my fault. He is making no exceptions. Plan B parkers have to walk around. Ouch.

I finally get into the building and there are no signs telling me where to go. When I need a sign there are none to be found. I find the meeting and surprise, surprise, the speaker has cancelled. The meeting was over before it started. There were no contacts to be made. No jobs. I am trying not to think of it as a sign from the cosmos just a Plan B day with a hairball .