Saturday, January 23, 2010

Question of the Day

There's been a foot on our road for at least a week. At first we thought it was a cow's foot but, on closer inspection, Davey-Crockett-Webster says it's most likely a young moose foot, being cloven and all. 
And there aren't many cows in this neck of the woods.
Kinda creepy, though, isn't it.. butchered clean off just below the joint, stripped of all flesh except a neatly incised strip of hair directly above the hoof. Even creepier to think there's a moose serial killer in the woods, knife in hand, offing moose, chopping up their moose bodies and tossing bits and pieces of moose carcass on quiet back roads like ours.
It's pretty gross, granted, but I have seen worse things.
I'm sure you have, too.
In fact, I want to hear about those things. A whole bunch of things.
But only if they are the honest to god, from the soul, TRUTH.
Every once in a while, maybe even every day (who knows, who cares, there aren't any rules here, it isn't school or work, it's just me dithering around) I am going to ask you a question.
And if you feel like answering truthfully, answer. If you're going to be a smartass, and tell me a fib, never mind. Hit "next blog" and carry on with life.
I've always been good at asking questions. Too good, according to some people, like my father, who used to accuse me of grilling everyone like sausages on a smoky spit.
But I don't mind answering questions, either. So, here's where the fun comes in. 
As well as answering the question I pose, I want you to guess what my answer will be.
Tomorrow, or the next time I blog, I'll answer the question.
And you can see how well you know me, or see what a smarty-pants you are.
In the meantime, I am looking forward to reading your answers.
Tell me the truth.
I will know if you are lying.

Question of the Day: What is the worst thing you have ever seen?


  1. Hmmm. Uhhh. Hmmmm. I'm not coming up with anything.
    I got sick all over my desk in school once because we were watching a safety video and it showed a kid bounce a ball into the street, with a steamroller heading his way. Kid runs into street after ball, steamroller goes over kid and next shot is the steamroller driving away leaving a paper child, edges fluttering gently in the wind, stuck to the street.
    My mind has always been more horrible than what I've actually witnessed. I hope it stays that way.

    Worst thing you've seen? Somebody grunting and beet-red, sitting on the toilet because they don't shut the god damn door like a civilized person.

  2. I vaguely remember that steamroller. And steamrollers in Bugs Bunny cartoons. And in A Fish Called Wanda. I didn't realize until just this minute how many steamrollers there are in the minds of popular culture. They must be right up there on the list of people's worst innate fears, like fear of heights, fear of basements, fear of the dark. I'm surprised Stephen King hasn't done a 3,000 page novel about the subject.

  3. The worst thing I have ever seen was on a drive to Sudbury many, many years ago. (25 or more) We were travelling north up highway 11.
    I was married at the time and my husband was at the wheel. We were approaching the southernmost entrance to Burk's Falls and were the vehicle next in line behind a transport truck. As we approached the intersection we could see a small brown car and watched as it pulled out onto highway 11 into the path of the Transport. The truck to all appearances tried as best he could to avoid car. He swerved right and rolled onto his right side and the momentum of his travels carried him forward still as he lay on his side. We heard the sound of screeching metal and saw smoke, dust, sparks, and I can only assume the debris of the tiny little brown car flying through the air, because we saw no brown car emerge from the other side to continue his travels down the road. I told my husband to continue up into town because the OPP station was a short distance away. He pulled into the parking lot and I jumped out and ran inside telling them what I had seen. Calls were made and an officer jumped into a cruiser and sped out. A short time afterwards an ambulance wailed by. We drove back to the scene and I again got out of the van and approached the officer to see if he needed us to remain any longer as witnesses. I waited to speak to the officer who was engaged in conversation with someone else. I stood next to the cab of the truck now on its side, the undercarriage exposed. The dust had settled and cars were lined all up and down both sides of the highway. People were now out of them talking to other travelers likely about what they had just seen. While I waited I my eyes wandered to the underside of the cab of the truck again and I saw a leg. From the hip down. It wore a black pin striped pant leg. And argyle sock and a black shoe. I saw no blood. I saw no flesh or gore. Just this leg that looked like someone had taken it from a mannequin. Dressed it, bent it at the knee and attached it to the bottom of this truck. That’s all I saw, not wanting to look further in case there was more. But I also noticed nothing anywhere on the road or nearby that resembled a car or any part of a car.
    The officer now turned to me and I asked him if he needed us to stick around, and he told us we could go on our way. He had plenty of witnesses.
    I also remember as a kid sitting hunkered down in a parking lot (at the drug store) with other kids looking at a white cat that had been run over. We were all squatting down like small kids do feet flat on the ground; knees bent, our butts flat against the back of our calfs. We were in a close circle, talking about this flat cat, more curios than grossed out and one kid using a stick to turn it over as we looked it over carefully. Its belly flattened and bloody.
    The last one was when I was a pre teen child. I was looking out the large front window waiting for my dad to come home. From our window we could see the bus stop on Birchmount Road. At this time of day, when I was expecting my dad to be getting off the bus or out of the car of someone who drove him home, workers were getting ready to start their night shift at the SKF factory on Birchmount. The bus stopped and I saw a man get off. He immediately started across the street and stepped out past the front of the buss and “wham” he was hit by a car. I saw him fly up and do a complete cartwheel in the air and fall to the ground. Then to my surprise I watched as he got up and continued on across the street walking like nothing had happened. People followed him and were speaking to him and I can only guess were trying to get him to sit down or something. He just kept waving them away like nothing had happened.
    I suppose only of these could be classified as the worst thing I have ever seen. But they have all stuck with me like that happened yesterday. And I expect they will stick with me well into my senior years and I will be telling my grandkids these stories.

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  5. So I am not sure about the next part of your assignment.
    Do we ask YOU a question... any question. Or do we try to guess what your answer to the question YOU put to us might be?
    See ya Monday.

  6. Sometimes our best stories are the most horrifying. They shock us, resonate with us, shape who we are. And they invariably happen when life is chugging along as it should. Enjoyed your post, Lynda. See you tomorrow!


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