It Was Suicide I Tell You

This morning, while driving eastbound on interstate 90 near the E.55 exit ramp here in Cleveland., I was subject to an attack. Ok, it actually wasn't an attack. It was more akin to what I'd like to imagine what the Japanese soldiers did on a banzai run during WWII.

On I-90 near the E.55th exit, there is a powerplant. Their water outlet is a haven for fish and fowl alike, especially during cold days as we've been having lately. The outlet, lets out into Lake Erie which I-90 borders.

As I said, fish like this outlet. So do the birds. Especially seagulls. This becomes a factor because of what happened to me today.

As I was driving eastbound on I-90, near the powerplant, I caught a quick glimpse of a whitish/grey rocket heading from right to left across the interstate about eye-level with my live truck. Yes. I said live truck.

I hear a WHUMP and then an explosion of feathers engulfs my vision. POOF. Instant pillow stuffing abounded in the air. Sorta like when Randy Johnson offed that bird from the pitching mound in spring training a few years back.

POOF. And the seagull was history. He came in low. And I mean LOW. Right across the grill of my live truck doing 60 m.p.h..

I swear the seagull was suicidal. Officer, I swear. He had a death wish.

Right after that, I had a semi and a van pull up next to me, honk their horns and give me a thumbs up.

One down...millions to go. I've already stenciled a seagull profile on my driver side door.


Four more and I'm an ace.