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The Curious Incident of the Turkeys (and Cars) in the Daytime April 25, 2007

Posted by TimTheFoolMan in Cars, Driving, Friends, Stupidity, Turkey.
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Since my older sister let the cat (or turkey) out of the bag, I suppose I should go on the record with my official version of “The Turkey Incident.” Technically, this might qualify as a Stupid Human Trick, but for now, I’ll leave it here.

turkey

(No, I have no idea why the turkey in the picture is wearing a monocle, and looks a bit like Colonel Klink.)

I swear that the following is true, to the best of my recollection. As Mr. Carlson (from WKRP in Cincinnati) once said, “With God as my witness, I thought turkeys could fly.”

The Drive Begins
So my friends and I are driving back to regular school from vocational school. Andy is riding with me, on the second day of owning a 1 year-old Mustang (OK, it was a Mustang II, but that’s only relevant to the story for purists), and Dean is riding with another Tim, on the second day of him owning a brand new Triumph TR7.

We aren’t really racing, as the TR7 would have left me in a smoking pile of rubble, but we are definitely moving along at extra-legal speeds. We turn onto a windy road named Simcoe Lane, famous for beautiful farm land vistas, sharp curves, and roller-coaster peaks & valleys. As Tim (the other one) disappears around a curve and over a rise in the road, I gunned it to keep up. When I crested the hill, there was Tim’s TR7, stopped dead in front of me.

The Excitement Builds
One of the important parts of this story is realizing that Tim (the other one) was driving a legitimate sports car, and I was driving a… well… shall we say “pretender.” The Mustang II looked nice enough, but it was hardly geared toward performance (especially if all you could afford was the 4-cylinder, 2.3 liter version).

Not coincidentally, the suspension and brakes on the Mustang II were no match for those of the TR7. Complicating matters further, Tim’s (the other one) car was also being slowed down by the mass of several dozen turkeys.

Yes, you read that correctly: Turkeys.

The Farmer Forgets
Remember the beautiful farm land vistas? Well, the owner of one such parcel raised (in part) turkeys for Thanksgiving (which was one week away), and somehow managed to leave his gate unlocked. The turkeys, doing what they have a tendency to do, managed to push through the unlocked gate, and headed en masse down the driveway and onto the street.

The turkeys, blissfully unaware of the absence of a “Turkey Crossing” sign on Simcoe Lane, moved onto the road in an almost solid mass of feathers, light/dark meat, and Stovetop Stuffing repositories. Unfortunately, their timing was poor, since two teenage drivers were on a mid-day joy ride, fast approaching their location.

Close Encounters of the Giblet Kind
As soon as I saw Tim’s (the other one) brake lights, I slammed on mine. However, since his brakes, tires, and suspension were all working (along with the mass of turkey flesh) to dramatically reduce his speed, my brakes were unable to provide enough stopping power to prevent a collision.

Accordingly (or accordionly), my car hit Tim’s (the other one), which hit even more turkeys than he had already hit. After several moments (that seemed to last minutes), we came to rest, amidst a cloud of feathers, the smell of burnt rubber, and the shock of seeing the back end of a TR7 folded up into the grill of my car.

We got out of the car, shook off the cobwebs, and assessed the situation. All of us were uninjured, but the cars… were simply not drivable. (One notable curiosity: Although we were driving with the windows rolled up, we were unable to find the cigarette that Andy was smoking. I suspect he may have swallowed it in the excitement.)

The Aftermath
When the police arrived, he noted that none of us were injured. This prompted him to ask, “Were any of you wearing seatbelts?”

Dean, ever the comedian replied, “Heck no… seatbelts are for accidents!”

I don’t think the policeman was amused, but he seemed convinced that we weren’t drunk, and he couldn’t prove we were speeding (though he clearly suspected it). I’m guessing maybe the dead turkeys complicated the skid calculation.

In the final analysis, the cost of replacing the TR7 (which was totaled), and repairing my Mustang ($1500) was split between mine and Tim’s (the other one) insurance company, and the insurance company for the turkey farmer. For several years afterward, every time I went to the office of my insurance agent, I would be greeted with, “Hey… you’re the turkey guy!”

Little did they know how right they were.

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Comments»

1. tiffanytaylor - April 26, 2007

😀 Oh, this is just too funny — although the turkey carnage (no pun intended) at the scene must have been dreadful. I hope you didn’t make the auto repair guys clean the giblets and feathers off the cars. (My father-in-law and brother-in-law work for an auto repair shop in northern Indiana. Every year when the deer get frisky and start hopping across roads at night and then behaving like, well, deer in the headlights, thus causing them to become large hood ornaments, the shop ends up dealing with cars that are brought in as is from the scenes of accidents, covered with day (or days!) old deer innards and outards. Ick!!)

2. Tim - April 26, 2007

Yes, they cleaned out the turkey stuff, but they didn’t get it all. For months afterward, I would find feathers in the strangest places: under the seats, inside the air filter compartment, etc.

3. Bonnie (One of Tim's Sisters) - April 28, 2007

Hey, I said you didn’t HAVE to post my comment. All I did was open the bag a little bit. It would have to be the moderator of this blog who officially let the turkey(s) out the bag.

Tim is not embellishing this story a bit. However, he’s getting to be a better storyteller (and writer) all of the time.

Hugs

4. Me - April 28, 2007

Is that a pic of one the turkeys you hit, he has an eye missing..lol

Great story, I’m curious though, did your friend worry that he may have swallowed that cigarette..lol

5. Marie (the EXTREMELY younger sister) - May 4, 2007

Best part? Unless I’m mistaken, Simcoe Lane is NO WHERE NEAR the vocational school and the high school. The latter two were less than a mile from each other on the same road. Clearly, a detour was involved so at least some details are missing…

Sidebar for Tim: Did this accident by any chance prompt our mother to subsequently run over Dean’s feet with a grocery cart, or was that some other catastrophe (turkeyastrophy)?

6. Tim - May 4, 2007

Well, there is some truth in what Marie states. However, there was a way to go from one school to the other via Simcoe. 😉

Unfortunately, Dean and I had a bit of a falling out, and Mom decided to take matters into her own hands by “accidentally” running over his feet. It was not one of her “greater moments of forgiveness and love.” 😀


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