Corn on the Cob

So I was in a BRT on 3rd mainland going from Berger towards CMS and we passed this chap on a motorcycle enjoying a cooked corn in one hand with the other hand on the handle bar. He soon finished off the corn and tossed the cob away – not sure if it made it over the side rails into the water or joined the other refuse on the bridge.
He then fished his helmet from the front of the cycle over the dashboard and jammed it back on his head.
Now, that’s all well and dandy. But consider the following scenario:
While he is busy contemplating how blessed he is, chomping on sweet corn and gently buffeted by cool sea breeze, his cycle goes into a pothole (yes, before our more advanced friends from across the seas wonder how slim the chances are of getting into a pothole on a bridge, let me assure you that they are not the rare fixtures they are over “there”, we have both the nature/elements made and the human-made ones when the city digs up bad patches of road under the guise of effecting repairs and proceeds to leave the hole alone for several months) I digress. So his bike hits a pothole or is side-winded by someone’s hubcap or wheel cover, and an otherwise innocuous morning is turned into something else for several people. Think of the bike doing a sliding tackle while the man does an Evel Knievel leap of faith. Cars screeching as drivers match on breaks to avoid having a human roadkill on their hands or hitting each other.
Nothing good can come out of such a scenario. Heaven will welcome at least one new arrival at “best” or several at worst.

And to the bike-man, asketh the Angel at the gate of heaven with power to grant or deny entrance:
“Well Sir, you seemed to have appeared much earlier than expected?”
“If it ain’t the damnedest thing …. Corn on the cob did me in.”

July 4, 2011

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