To the editor:
I have figured out what I would like to find under my Christmas tree this year, but I think it requires an explanation.
A two-lane, secondary road passes my house where I walk my old dog nearly daily. The road is posted at 30 mph since there are residences with small children and pets scattered on both sides of the street. There is easily a couple hundred yards of visibility in both directions before the road curves to obscure oncoming traffic. At this time of year, I wear both a hunter orange hat and a reflective traffic vest; the dog is always leashed.
Like a victim of a home invasion who tenses at sounds of things that go bump in the night, I find myself tense in the presence of cars on this road. Recently, I was pinned against the guardrail of a nearby bridge with my old dog tucked behind my knees, alternately praying and cussing as the passenger-side mirror of a pick-up truck whizzed past my nose no more than a foot or so away, traveling at 50 miles an hour or more.
Since there was no approaching vehicle, there was no reason not to move into the other lane. Once I got my heart out of my throat, I puzzled over what this driver anticipated as a result of his “fan-back.” Did he think that I would somehow heave myself and the 80-pound dog up over the shoulder-high guard rail, drop 25 feet or more into the river, and swim against the current to shore just to be out of his way? Did the driver think at all?
Hence my letter, Santa. I want a paintball pistol, small enough to tuck in a pocket. I will load it with the most noxious, revolting shades of paint I can lay my hands on. I will consider it a community service to channel Angie Dickinson, peppering the windshield, fenders, and cab before pivoting to splatter the tailgate of the speeding truck. In future, anyone approaching this vehicle will heed the warning that this driver is too ignorant or too self-involved to be trusted to drive defensively or even courteously.
Thank you, Santa!
Catherine Chase
Presque Isle
