Why did the chickens cross the road

Yesterday I was driving through Imlaystown, a rustic old town south of Freehold, on the way to a hike. Suddenly I had to halt for a chicken crossing. Like movies made in scenic Italy, the chickens seemed to have the right of way. There they were, with a few brightly decorated roosters ( a fellow hiker said the were accompanied by peacocks, although I cannot attest to this). I honked but that only made them freeze in the road. Finally they started up again in their journey. The chickens crossed the road.

I made it to the hike on time and used the porta potty. Using the porta potty is one of the pleasures of travel in the United States.

Editor's note: It's wonderful to know New Jersey still has its backwoods towns where chickens still amble across Main Street.

Mother's day sentimentality

I am not going to denigrate Mother's Day. When it's convenient it can be fun. You buy her a present and in return you get to eat a good meal and drink a couple of Dad's or your siblings beers. Mothers deserve a day. Mothering children can be a thankless task.

 It being a cold and rainy day I've been spending time on Facebook and reading all the things people say about their Moms. It's led me to a theory that Mother's qualities increase exponentially with the years.

When you are young you have a different view of dear Mother. The college student is in the basement with a few pals, smoking a joint and drinking Pop's beer. The last voice he wants to hear is Mother's yelling down from the kitchen.
"You know, we are going to early mass tomorrow. Don't be too late getting to bed!"

Then you get older and can't wait to get away from the house. You are in your own pad and the phone rings. Maybe it's that lady you spoke to at the party. No, it's your mother. You try to be polite but get rid of her as soon as possible.

Then she gets sick and you argue with your brother about whose turn it is to take her to the doctor. "I would love to take her but we have an important meeting at work on Tuesday."

After your mother passes away she is rehabilitated in your minds. Her goodness expands while those moments when you argued with her or was mad at her go away. After a decade or two she becomes the saint who always was your guide to life and who you miss so much. That is when we see all the goop that people are putting on Facebook this weekend. Putting sentimental pictures up on Facebook is a nice way to spend an hour while your clothes are drying. Oh I wish Mom was still alive. I hate doing laundry.