Suicidal Deer verses my Cadillac Mar 16, 2013

My precious car got runned over by a danged old deer last Friday night. Sweet Angie, my other brother Larry- the real cable guy, and I were 78 miles north of El Dorado Arkansas on Hwy 167 about 7PM. I was on the lookout for deer because we had already seen about 50 eating grass on the side of the road. What is it about highway department grass that deer love? I need to get me a hunting lease there. We were south bound and down crossing a long bridge on a swampy area.

Unbeknown to us, 6 antique, vintage, suicidal old timer bucks were casting lots to see which one would leap out in front of the next blinding headlights. As soon as we cleared the bridge abutment, I heard a loud crash and jerked my head up to see a full grown deer whose shoulder and head were above the passenger fender of the Cadi. I had the cruise set at 65 mph. The car never swayed of slowed down. Larry and Angie saw the deer tumble belly up into a deep ditch. It knocked him for a loop.  I made a u-turn but could not find the deer. I did not have any room to put the road kill anyway- if I had my red Dodge Ram we would have deer in the freezer now. It would definitely not be the first time suicidal road kill deer ended up in the Whitlow freezer. It probably would have killed one of us if we had been in Sweet Angie’s Avalon, but the 88 Cadillac Brougham is made solid out of used Coors cans and lots of rebar.  The right passenger front is smashed up, the grill is busted, and both right headlamps are shattered.

We had Progressive insurance and I kept waiting for that girl to show up in the woods on the side of the road. That is false advertising. We waited and waited and she never did show up. Progressive eventually did send out an adjuster and they totaled the car and sent me a check for $2500 smackers. My body shop said that I needed a loaded header assembly and I think I found one on the internet for $175 plus shipping from Jacksonville. I hope they can make the repairs and paint the Cadi for the amount of the check. Progressive said I could have gotten more if I had purchased antique car insurance. I will do that after I get it fixed.

The story should have ended there but unfortunately it did not. We drove about 5 miles and entered a redneckish town and I slowed down to the required 45 and reset the cruise. We passed a squad car with blue lights flashing as he had someone pulled off to the side off to our right. I remember thinking of how beautiful the blue lights are if they are not in your mirror. I told he patrolman that when I met him. The squad car pulled out almost directly as we passed and I just pulled over to the side of the road. The officer took his time walking up to my window, so I grabbed the seat belt and held it across me with my right hand. Fat people don’t like seat belts. I knew they were stopping me because of the busted head light.

Then my other brother Larry reminded me about my daddy’s gun on the seat between us. It was my daddy’s Monroe Louisiana PD, prized Smith and Wesson pearl handled 38 special and I knew it was unloaded. I told Larry to cover it up with a black shopping bag next to it. “I don’t want to scare some young cop half to death.”

As my cop left the window to run my license and registration, his partner came up to Larry’s window and reported that he had snuck up on us and he seen Larry move a bag. “What was in the bag?” That is when I decided that honesty is the best policy. “He was covering up my gun. “ Boy let me tell you what- things got intense. Almost instantly like slime and gators on a Louisiana swamp another squad car appeared with even more beautiful blue lights flashing.  It looked like one of my daddy’s old Louisiana Peace Officer LPOA conventions. The boss came up to the window then and asked Larry to slowly remove the black bag from the gun. Then carefully pick the pistol up by the butt and hand it across me out the window to him. The instructions were very clear and precise.

Then the boss asked me to exit the car carefully and walk to the back. I expected the hand cuffs to go on about this time and I was surely dreading it, remembering the first and last time not that long ago. “Do you have any other guns in the car? He asked. “Yes in the trunk, I have a 22 Ruger assault rifle with a 30 round clip.” I thought for sure we were headed for convict city for a concealed weapon.

I opened the trunk and there it was squished between the suitcases and the back of the car. He reached down, picked up the rifle, removed the loaded magazine and said, “Get back in the car.” Then the initial officer asked why I carried weapons. I said to protect myself. We had just spent 3 nights in Little Rock and some guy actually stepped into our motel room and said he was looking for his cell phone. After he left I slowly waked out to the Cadi, opened the trunk and removed Ruger and stood it up in the corner by the door. The first time we worked in Little Rock about 2002, one of my employees got slashed with a switchblade while walking one night from Motel 6 to the Waffle House. Homer Simpson was not going to give up his wallet and 3 bucks, so he turned around and drop kicked the guy through the goal post of life.

The convention out behind the Cadi seemed to last an hour and then the boss came up and asked me to step outside the car. I figured this is when the handcuffs came out or maybe the Taser. Then he explained that he could have busted us for a concealed weapon. He warned that if an officer pulls you over and you have a gun, to immediately state clearly that you have a gun on the seat. Remember that - all of you God fearing gun toting rednecks. Then the officer said watch me put both of the guns back in the trunk and close the trunk. “Now get in the car and drive away, don’t look back.”

The story should have ended then but it did not. It could a been worser but it was not. About 5 miles further north I saw the beautiful blue lights in the mirror again. This time it was the Arkansas State Police. Again I grabbed my seat belt and waited. This time as soon as I saw his face in the window, I shouted, “We got runned over by a danged ole deer.” And the officer gave me a warning ticket and said drive safely and we did. That is the end of the story. Otherwise it has been a quiet week in Lake Wobegone where all the men are perfect like me, all the women are good looking, and all the children are better than average. Be well. Do good Work, and stay in touch.

 

 

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