Squirrel

First of all, when people call humor "tongue-in-cheek," it never really bothered me and I kind of got what it meant until I read on the back of a book, "you will laugh with your tongue placed firmly in your cheek throughout the duration of this work."

What?

Am I actually supposed to anatomically do this while I'm laughing at smartaleck humor?

I think not. The blurb-writer was just trying to be original.

But I really wish I knew where that term originated.

The real reason for this post is to commemorate the life of the poor squirrel lying on the busy road halfway between my home and work.

It has taken several days of passing him for the passion to build up inside me enough to write about it.

Each day the squirrel becomes a little flatter; it becomes a little less squirrel and a little more a part of the road.

I tuought there were people who took care of roadkill in this country! This is Amurica!

Its poor body decays in front of my eyes. It reminds me of Ayn Rand's words in the fountainhead about the countless things ground into the new york city sidewalks by the feet of millions.  Jewels, even. There will be a day when even its shadow will be bleached by the sun.

How many poor rodents have undergone the same fate? Undignified decay, in full view of us furless monsters in our noisy machines.

This situation also makes me feel a little more hesitant about eating things off the ground.

Did you know people run over baboons in Kenya because sometimes people throw them food and so they come close to all vehicles.  I think it's sadder than squirrels dying because we don't have baboons in amurica.  But then again, they don't have our kind of squirrel in Kenya, DO they?