Saturday, June 14, 2008

God Bless Me Damnit! - Volume 3

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It’s usually a very calm and casual drive home from work every night. No matter what time of the year it is, 2 am around here most likely means that the streets are perfectly clear, and it gives me a wonderful opportunity to think about whatever it is my little brain desires. Friday’s are the best because the fact that I can sleep in on Saturday usually makes the drive that much more casual. Some days, I take a different way so that I can simply take the extra time to mellow out more, but tonight I felt like getting home and writing a Superdaddyman adventure that I had been shrugging off for the last few days. I’m sure it would have been droll and at the best amused me only, but I was looking forward to it all the same.

The regular, back road route home {27 to 151 to 1 to 1a} was the one I took, and my mind was wandering about as to how I would frame my next great adventure, so as to make it amusing, yet based in small part on reality, while at the same time I was keeping my mind on the areas that I knew I could speed, and those that I couldn’t. The disadvantage of driving home at 2 am is the bored North Hampton Police Department that is desperate for something to do with less people to perpetrate quota on, so I do have to watch what I am doing. The worst of these locations is that intersection between 151 and 1 that almost nobody really stops for, which is where they almost always sit and wait for people. It’s an easy mark, and often they pull you over and simply tell you that you didn’t stop, but have learned to leave me alone over the last couple of years since I raise a very good stink about it all. I still slow down to a crawl when approaching the intersection so there is no doubt about it.

Tonight there was a rather large lump in the middle of the road, which usually signified a raccoon that wasn’t smart enough to get out of the way of oncoming traffic. My Scottish mind started appraising the critter from about a quarter of a mile away as to how much meat I could get off of it and what sauce to use when I prepare it. Mind you, I never actually do that but it is the instinct of the Scottish part of me that will always look at various road kill and think of what a waste of good meat it is, and this one was so huge that I could see it the second my Silverstar headlights touched it, which made that craven feeling come out almost immediately. As I approached it and it started moving in a very peculiar manner though, I was startled into slamming on my brakes in front of it, and staring at the 5 babies crawling around their mother. It hit me really hard for some reason, and it took me about half a cigarette to sit there and contemplate what I was going to do about this.

The mother raccoon was quite dead, and in the dead center of the side of the road I was driving on. One of the babies was in the process of dying, but the other 4 were the size of baseballs at best, and didn’t comprehend getting out of the road with headlights staring at them. They couldn’t have even had their eyes open more than a few days to a week, because I have had raccoons in my backyard my whole life, and have never seen them this small. Getting out of my car and walking over towards them didn’t move them a bit, and unfortunately started tugging at my heart as these babies were so small and defenseless that they hadn’t even grown into their instincts beyond, “Follow Mother.”

A car passed by after about 15 minutes of my standing there in disbelief. The car full of teenagers were obviously in a much bigger hurry than I was as they wailed around my car and blared their horn at me. The girl driving might have even flipped me off, I really only glanced out of apathy towards their momentary frustration. That didn’t swerve the cubs at all who still took no notice of me whatsoever as they sniffed around their mother oblivious to their own peril. I couldn’t really think, and my mind went into one of those dozes that it often does before a good old fashioned panic attack. Rationally I did finally come to my senses and assumed that the best course of action was to pull the mother off the road with a broom that I had in the back of my car. It was disgusting to be honest with you and might have actually cured that Scottish gene that always seemed to make me hungry at a road kill. To be blunt the entrails of the mother dragged behind her as I pushed her with the broom, but the cubs did follow her off to the side of the road. I then went and pushed the now dead baby that I had the wonderful fortune to watch wriggle for a while beside the mother, but realistically thought that it might have had the better road. I was now concerned about these babies that really didn’t know what to do next. It would figure that this would be the only time one of those stupid cops wouldn’t be at this intersection wouldn’t it?

A half hour is gone now, and a car finally pulls in behind me, and an older man gets out and asks if I need assistance. I told him what I saw and showed him the babies who were now starting to make whining chirps beside their mother, and he came over to look at them. God don’t make junk, I always say, and he happened to know a little bit about raccoons. He walked over and picked one up by the scruff of the neck and the thing didn’t even squirm much as he walked it over to his truck and put it in the back. I happened to have a couple of Staples Paper cases that I take home from work to store things in so when I brought it out he scooped up the other three the same way, and put them inside, and then placed them in the back seat of his truck.

It just so happens that this retired man lives in the woods on the other side of North Hampton, and his wife feeds the raccoons out back of their house, so he has a lot of experience watching them. He just so happened to not be able to sleep, so he just happened to drive out to Exeter to surprise his wife with morning coffee and muffins. He told me that raccoons aren’t like most animals in the fact that they don’t care if another raccoon smells like humans or not, and they happen to be very community oriented. He had friends that in the past just left homeless cubs in the backyard with the food, and some other mother will assimilate them into her pack, and that was just what he intended to do. I thanked him profusely for helping me out of this because I think in the end I would have had to leave them there and it would have eaten at me for many days, if not longer. I have a very good tendency to take on a lot more stress than necessary and if I catch up on my stress I can so easily find more.

It was amazing how my roller coaster of emotions could be run through the entire wringer in under 45 minutes, but then again perhaps that is why these types of things happen after all. The last 15 minutes of my drive home was dedicated to micro managing the situation over and over in my head and looking at all of the “other” circumstances that had gone on. Being a man who often wishes death on the mother of my own children, it was quite a quagmire to see the destructive nature of babies being without one. I moved on to wondering what would have happened had I gone another way home, because I can almost guarantee that the asswipe that loved her horn so much would have wiped out the rest of those babies in one fell swoop, had I not been there blocking her path to them. Then of course the kind old man {which is rare in New England trust me} who just happened along, and the more potent fact that I could have left by then but was still just watching the poor cubs for a bit. He probably never would have seen them himself.

Don’t get me wrong, because I am quite sure that these feelings of having done “the next right thing” will probably wear off before I even get to work again on Monday. If they haven’t then they should be wiped out of me about an hour into my shift as I firmly sit myself into my usual state of self pity, and self loathing that often follows me around like a storm cloud. I’m not perfect after all as I am just trying to work out all of the kinks in this little life that I call Jeremy Crow. The fact of it all seems to be that we are all put on this world for something. I have a few friends that will vehemently deny that fact, and will assume that I am trying to bring some notion of a higher power into all of this, but I have never really been able to simply sit back and assume the great accident theory either. At the very least I will have a wonderful story to tell my kids in about 5 hours when they are jumping up and down on my head demanding that I wake up and entertain them. Then I can go back to reminding myself that there is a chance that they were put on this planet to do something other than give me something to bitch about. Well maybe not, but the theory is sound ;8o)

Other Crap This Weirdo Publishes... Mental Notes & Random Musings {Daily Blog} The Crow's Nest {The Homepage of Jeremy Crow} Jeremy Crow on Multiply {For Community Types} Blogaholics Anonymous {E-Mail Blogging Group} Itching For Coffee {Community Blog}

Nothing that was printed here was intended to offend anyone, and if it did, screw ya, you begged for it. If you believe that there are some measures that can be taken to change me, then please feel free to pray for me, and while you are at it yourself, because you read this far, and if you hated every minute of it, then you are an idiot, not me, or the other people who like what I have to say! .. Jeremy

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