Why Did the Chicken Cross the Road?

Driving down the road on my usual morning commute to the university where I work, a pheasant suddenly flew out of the borrow ditch across the front end of my vehicle.  Scared the bejeebers out of me.  I swerved and luckily avoided hitting the bird with the grill of my card.  After a few choice words . . . of the profane type . . . I proceeded on down the road. 

 

Now you have to understand, pheasants and I have had many encounters through the years.  Most of those encounters resulted in no dead birds and no damage to the cars I was driving.  They were a draw that cost me nothing more than a speeding heartbeat and those profane choice words.  On the other hand, there have been those encounters where there were definite losers.

 

One Sunday morning my youngest son—who was in the early stages of elementary school—and I were driving to another community where I was preaching.  We were on the backroads of Nebraska—lots of dirt and dust.  Suddenly out of the borrow ditch a pheasant flew out of the weeds and was blasted with the grill of the car.  A huge puff and cloud of feathers exploded across the windshield in a spectacular fashion.  The pheasant had exploded on impact.  My son’s eyes grew wide, and he exclaimed, “Cool!  Let’s do it again!”  Luckily there was no damage to the car.  The pheasant, well it was everywhere—especially the front grill of the car.  The pheasant lost that battle.

 

Another time, down the road from where we live now, prior to moving to Montana, several of the kids and I were on a house-hunting expedition in hopes of finding an acceptable and affordable abode for our move to Montana.  As we were heading down the two-lane highway, as usual a pheasant was flushed from the borrow ditch.  Flew across the front of the car, hit the grill with a loud thump, and rolled on over to the other side of the road.  It was deader than a doorknob.  The grill was mangled and busted.  Damaged.  Thankfully a few zip ties held it together until we could get back to Nebraska and replace the grill for several hundreds of dollars.  In this case there were two losers . . . the pheasant was toast and I was out of money to replace the grill.

 

That near-encounter with the pheasant on my morning commute brought back those memories and others.  I guess the pheasant must have triggered some sort of PTSD –Pheasant Trauma Stress Disorder—reaction in me.  It got me thinking about all the times I have hit or nearly hit some sort of critter while driving down the road.  I have had a lot of close encounters with the critter kind while driving.  You don’t live in rural areas without experiencing such encounters on a regular basis.  It is part of the charm of rural living.  And I have had more than my fair share of encounters with critters on the road . . . some I have hit, the majority I have missed.  In all of them there came heart-pounding fear and profane words.

 

The flashbacks were of deer, pheasants, raccoons, opossums, a moose once, bears, bison, all sorts of small birds, dogs, cats, turtles, squirrels and ground squirrels, an antelope . . . some I have hit, most I have avoided.  In all . . .  my blood pressure was raised, and a blue streak was revealed.  Usually that would be it and I go on with life as usual, but something about that brush of near catastrophe got me thinking . . . why in the world did the chicken cross the road?  For that matter, why does any critter cross the road?  It is an age-old question of life.  Inquiring minds want to know.

 

I want to know because over the years those mashups with critters have cost me several thousand dollars in repairs.  Three suicidal deer that found their demise by running into vehicles I was driving . . . thousands in repairs.  A family of raccoons that were crossing the road, stopped, flipped me off, and were smashed cost me a radiator.  Pheasants took out my grills.  And it all took place as they were attempting to cross the road.  Why?  Why were they trying to cross the road!

 

Such encounters of the critter kind are not as uncommon as one might imagine . . . especially in Montana.  According to State Farm (Like a good neighbor, State Farm is there.”) research, only West Virginia ranks higher than Montana when it comes to these vehicle and critter encounters.  West Virginia is number one, Montana is number two.  Here are the top seven:

 

West Virgina (1 in 37)

Montana (1 in 47)

Pennsylvania (1 in 51)

South Dakota (1 in 53)

Michigan (1 in 54)

Wisconsin (1 in 57)

Iowa (1 in 58)

 

I would confer with these statistics as I have lived in two of the seven.  Most of my critter mashing has occurred in Montana, Nebraska, and Iowa.  But the fact is, if you drive long enough you will hit something.

 

It is risky business this critter road crossing.  The Institute of Highway Safety’s research states that there are at least 150 deaths and over one billion dollars in vehicle damage occurs on an annual basis from 1.5 million deer collisions.  The Animal People Newsletter research points out that lots of critters get hit by vehicles in the United States:

 

41 million squirrels

26 million cats

22 million rats

19 million opossums

15 million raccoons

6 million dogs

 

Maybe the cats got their chasing the rats across the road . . . maybe not.  Who knows?

 

Here in Montana the Insurance Information Institute gives a similar breakdown of the road crossing demise of the state’s critters:

 

88,440 dogs

42,539 raccoons

19,668 coyotes

15,104 turkeys

12,561 bears

9,212 cows

4964 elk

2,470 moose

2,166 wolves

8,927 hogs

1,750 bobcats

813 turtles

 

Thankfully, I confess, I can state that I have never hit a coyote (though no one in Montana would blame me if I did), turkeys, bear, cows, elk, moose (though I had a near-miss), wolves, hogs, bobcats, or turtle.  It seems that I reserve my all encounters with deer, raccoons, and birds.

 

That is a lot of animals . . . a lot of critters attempting to get across the road.  Despite it all, no one can answer the question of “why did the chicken (or any critter for that matter), cross the road?  At least for me they haven’t given me any acceptable answer . . . and the critters are dead.  Dead critters can’t speak.

 

As you can see . . . it is a BIG question.  A BIG question with as many answers as there are critters made into roadkill.  It has been that way since the first critter attempted to cross the road.  I think that question is asked in the Bible—if not all holy scripture across the gamut of religions.  I think it was one of the questions Moses asked God at the burning bush, but it got left out by the original editors of the Old Testament.  Or maybe it was a question asked by one of Jesus’ disciples to their master—Peter maybe, he was always asking Jesus questions.  Whatever . . . the question has been around forever.

 

Of course, the standard answer to the question is “to get to the other side.”  Duh . . . but, why!  Someone said that this was a fairly clever double entendre since it had to do with the chicken dying and going to the “other side”.  But, why?  Why did the chicken want to go to the other side.  Why does any critter want to cross the road?

 

We will never know.  Dead critters—like dead people—don’t speak.  I just wish like heck they would quit trying to cross the road when I am driving down the road.  For the sake of my vehicles, insurance rate, and wallet.  For their sake too . . . I am sure whatever is luring them across the road is not worth becoming a splatter on the highway.  Unless . . . as I have often wondered . . . they really do have a death wish to pass on over to the “other side”.  Only they and God know for certain.  I just someone would let me in on the punchline.

 

Buck Snorts

It’s been said before, “You can dress up a pig, but it’s still a pig.”  So, it goes with flatulence . . . more commonly known as “farts”.  No matter how you say it . . . whatever name you give it . . . a fart is a fart is a fart.  Smelly business when you get down to it.  It amazes me at how many different names and ways are attempted to name a fart.  I was curious at how many ways one could name or describe a fart.  Off the top of my head, I could only come up with about ten.  I found one website on the Internet that had 150!  Check it out.  Here are some of the most common ones and some that were my favorites:

 

Cut the cheese

Breaking wind

Farting

Flatulence

Cut one

Toot

Pass gas

Air biscuit

Butt bazooka

Trouser trumpet

 

One that is not on the list, but I learned when I was getting my Speech Pathology degree in college is “bilabial fricative”.  That was popular among my classmates and a great conversation starter at parties. 

 

Another one that I picked up later in life was “buck snort”.  I picked that one up as a fan of the television show Cheers.  In one episode Ted, the owner of the bar, comes into the bar and notices Coach—one of the bartenders, giggling and laughing.  Curious he asks Coach what is so funny.  The bartender hands him a paper napkin with two hunters hiding in a clump of bushes.  One looks over at the other and says, “Did I hear a buck snort.”  Coach finds this hilarious.  So hilarious he buys 30 grosses of the napkins—4320 of the napkins.  Ted finds no humor in the napkins or the fact that Coach bought them.  Like Coach . . . I think it is funny.  What do you think? 

 

I have an older friend—in his nineties—in Michigan who has appreciated his bodily functions for quite some time.  He often is “tooting” (pardon the pun) his horn about the number of times he has sneezed or farted.  He is always attempting to break his previous record.  He finds great delight in this endeavor. This got me thinking, as we get older, do we fart more?  Being curious, I wanted to know.

 

Guess what!  We do!

 

According to the Internet . . . in fact the WebMD website . . . the older we get, the more we fart.  I was unaware that most people pass gas at least 14 times per day.  Some do it more, some people do it less.  It all depends on lots of factors.  It is quite common as this is a natural occurrence for everyone.  Basically, it is the digestive system releasing air through the rectum.  For the most part it is fairly normal.  Apparently as we get older our bodies begin to break down . . . metabolism slows down . . . food sits in the digestive system longer creating more gas, plus the stomach makes less acid needed to digest food well.  The result is more flatulence.  Medication can also lead to more tooting.  Plus, there are some medical causes that can make one pass gas. 

 

Apparently as we get older, we cut the cheese more often.  It is a part of aging.  Despite it being a normal function of our bodies, it is still frowned upon by most.  Breaking wind whenever one feels like it is not socially acceptable in the majority of situations.  For example, as a minister, it would not be seen as socially acceptable for me to cut one loose while standing at the communion table.  Of course, if I had, I probably would have leaned over to one of the elders at the table and said, “Did I hear a buck snort?”  But that is just me.  The congregation probably would not have seen the humor in it.

 

You must admit though, farting is humorous.  As kids we giggled and laughed whenever one of us passed gas.  It was funny.  Admit it.  How could it not be?  Who among us didn’t laugh when we saw the campfire scene in Blazing Saddles?  As a grandfather I have found that flatulence humor is quite popular with the grandkids, while on the other hand, it isn’t tolerated as much among their parents (even though they turn so you can see them giggling).  As funny as farting is, we have been taught that it is not something we are supposed to do or appreciate as we get older.  God must have a wicked sense of humor . . . making us pass gas more often as we get older.  I bet God thinks of it as just another temptation we must avoid as we get older.

 

Now, because it is a bodily function, that means that there are some things we can do to avoid butt yodeling too much.  Here are some of the suggestions:

·        Stay hydrated (Drink more water . . . it makes sense because you are too busy peeing to toot.)

·        Exercise . . . it keeps things moving in the digestive system. 

·        Avoid dairy products . . . This also makes sense since science has proven that cows have lots of flatulence that produces methane.  So much methane that some say cows are one of the greatest causes of global warming.  Quit using dairy products . . . put the cows out of business!

·        Avoid veggies that cause gas . . . broccoli, cabbage, brussels sprouts, and asparagus.  Outside of cabbage these are the foundation of my vegetable consumption.  We have these several times a week.  I guess if I let out a rump roar I can blame it on the vegetables.

·        Check out your meds . . . those little pills might be the starter mix for some squeakers.

·        Avoid soda pop . . . carbonated drinks.  Pop is no big deal for me.  I can live without it.  On the other hand, beer . . . well that is a different story.  I like my beer and I am not ready to switch over to all nitro beer.  A tootsie here or there with a couple of beers is worth the risk of being a social outcast.

·        Avoid beans and lentils.  Duh!  We all know: “Beans, beans, the musical fruit.  The more you eat, the more you toot.  The more you toot, the happier you feel.  So, eat your beans with every meal!”  Who doesn’t want to feel happy?

·        Don’t chew gum.  Chewing gum can make you swallow air that leads to gas.  Luckily, I cannot walk and chew gum at the same time.  I’d much rather walk . . . I like to go places.

·        Avoid eating on the go.  Scarfing down food while on the run is not good because it causes cornhole claps . . . plus it is not safe!

Here’s the thing . . . you can’t beat entropy.  We all get old.  We all wear down.  It is natural.  Flatulence . . . farting . . . whatever you call it . . . it increases as we get older.  We cannot avoid it.  It just happens.  Any attempt to suppress or hold in a crack clapper is going to make us implode . . . blow up our insides.  That would be a mess . . . a crappy mess.  Let her rip!  Follow nature!  Less of a mess to clean up.  Since you can’t beat it, you might as well enjoy it.  Go for the record like my friend in Michigan.  See how many times a day you let those little stinkers out.  As I said, you can’t avoid it, so you might as well enjoy it.

Getting older stinks . . . literally . . . and this proves it.  Rectal turbulence is a natural function of our bodies that seems to increase as we get older.  There is scientific proof.  We old people are encouraged to embrace our aging as a part of the journey of life. The sound effects come with it.  Bob Dylan tells us that it is blowing in the wind, my friend . . . rejoice and make a joyful noise as the psalmist in scripture tells us.  You can’t avoid it.

Excuse me . . . I think I hear a buck snorting.

Toot-a-loo!