I went out for a training ride yesterday. About half way through, toodling along at like 20 mph, I saw two red robins on my right side taking flight from a nearby tree. The one bird whizzed right past my eyes and the other one trailing him bonked me right smack in the front of my head. I looked over my left shoulder and saw that he musn't have been hurt too bad. I only diverted his flight path a little bit.
This was one of the weirdest experiences I've had on my bike. I was wearing my helmet and he hit me pretty hard. He felt really squishy like being hit with a flying Big Mac still in the wrapper. When the bird hit me, it made a really loud squeeky noise. It sounded like one of those dog toys. It startled the crap out of me.
So, a couple of hours later, I get home and take my helmet off. I see that I have several feathers sticking out that were lodged in the vents of my helmet.
What's really funny is that I met another guy riding back home and I rode along side of him and had a conversation for 10 or so miles. It occured to me that he was on my right side so he must have seen the feathers. He didn't say anything about them. I bet I looked like a complete tool.
About Me
- Mick
- In 1968, a baby boy was born and his parents named him Michael. As a cute little zero year old, he had a little round nose and made gurgly noises. But, he also had colic which tired his mama out and his grandmother often rocked him to sleep. One night, while doing this, she nicknamed him "Mickey" and that is why people also call him Mick. He grew up in upstate New York in a place too remote to be called anything. There were a lot of bugs and his Dad yelled at him for using too many paper towels. Little Mickey tried to have fun playing war with his friends and shooting BB guns. He didn't apply himself very much in school and he graduated high school Magne Cum Lousy. One day in 1986 he discovered a lump in his neck which he promptly ignored for more than 6 months. As fate would have it, it was Hodgekin's Disease and after months of dicking around with inept doctors, he promptly underwent aggressive treatment involving brutal tests and chemotherapy. This lasted a year followed by many years of paranoia. This is where he learned to suffer and it payed great dividends. Now he teaches 13th grade at a college in Ohio where he suffers daily.
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