Poor Biff’s Almanac — Waiting To Inhale

Hazmat

It’s been an exciting weekend around the Biff household.  And by “exciting”, I mean “a little less boring than usual.”

I drove down to central Texas to visit my brother.  It is about  three hour drive (depending on how fastidious one is about obeying the speed limits).  It rained the entire way down there.  I was also driving into a headwind of about 30 or 35 miles an hour.  I found it interesting to think that if I’d rolled my window down and stuck my hand out, that it would be experiencing winds of about 110 MPH.  But I didn’t stick my hand out the window.  It was raining, remember?  Also, 110 MPH winds could have caused an errant June bug to put a hole clean through my hand.  No one enjoys that, especially the June bug.  It would have ruined both of our days.

In spite of the high winds and rain, I made the drive with a minimum amount of hydroplaning and debris-dodging, including the entire front skin of a car, probably left over from an auto accident many moons ago.  Or perhaps it was the ghost of a Ford Taurus haunting the stretch of freeway where it had met its maker (Henry Ford).

Eventually I had to get off of the interstate because the town where my brother lives does not lie on the interstate.  One must drive about 30 or 40 miles of country road to complete the journey.

We often hear people talk about getting out of the city so they can breathe in the fresh, pristine air of the country.  Those people are insane.

In a short 30 mile drive down a quaint country back road, I was subjected to many varied odors, each one more potent and powerful that the last.  In those short 30 miles, I encountered no less than 17 skunks (presumably deceased), 3 chicken farms (I may never each chicken again), 12 or 15 cattle ranches (that apparently account for the vast majority of cow flatulence produced in the world), and one 5 mile stretch of road that was so rank that I nearly passed out at the wheel.  In deference to my more squeamish readers, I will not attempt to describe it other than to say it was as if there was some sort of explosion in a combined hog rendering plant and raw sewage treatment plant and they were attempting to put out the conflagration with diesel fuel.  My throat is, quite literally, still irritated and raw from breathing whatever that was.

So, if I am ever tempted to leave the smog and pollution of this great metropolis of Dallas, I will just remember those powerful odors and remind myself that things are not so bad here.

Here in Dallas, at least all I’m breathing in is car exhaust and vape fumes.

 

8 comments

  1. I don’t think the problem is being in rural areas. I think the problem is being in rural areas in Texas. I live in the sticks and the very worst smell lasts about a day or so after the hayfields are fertilized. Come up here and drive around nasally unassaulted.

    Liked by 1 person

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