The freeway turkey has crossed the road and reached the other side.
I wrote about this turkey two weeks ago, after seeing it frequently along the westbound shoulder of Interstate 70 on the Livingston Avenue curve. Sometimes, it hustled along at a trot, and sometimes, it stood still, gazing longingly across the six lanes of traffic as though pondering how to get to the other side.
After the column ran, I heard from a number of motorists who have seen the turkey.
“All of a sudden I saw the turkey,” wrote Becky Dodson. “He was running the same direction as I was and he was on the berm and was he ever moving! And such a straight line! He was just beautiful.”
In a follow-up email, Dodson said, “I keep thinking about the turkey and I’m wondering if he has a couple of different ‘turfs’ he presides over and the best way to get there is to run directly down the shoulder like that. He was really going fast and his legs were stiff and straight out.”
A few readers advanced the story, reporting the latest development.
“While I was stopped in traffic on I-70, I glanced over to my right,” wrote Cohen Carlisle. “Now, imagine my surprise when I see a turkey right outside my passenger side window. But … get ready for the mystery to deepen here … it was on the eastbound side!”
Carlisle even snapped a photo in which the turkey appears to be staring directly at him, as if demanding, “What’s your problem, pal? Never seen a turkey on the freeway before?”
I was out-of-state for the week following that first turkey column, and I feared returning to work this week only to discover that the bird had become roadkill. But he or she was there again on Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday, as unflappable as ever.
Saying thanks, one brownie at a time
Last month, I wrote about two small random acts of kindness that made a big and lasting impression on a Dublin woman.
For the past few months, a local law firm has doled out sweets under the same premise.
They call themselves the 900 Brownie Club, and their goal was modest. They were not out to save the world but to thank those groups that, according to attorney Michael N. Oser, are “making Ohio a better and sweeter place to live.”
The 11 lawyers, eight paralegals and one receptionist delivered 900 home-baked brownies in 90 days to organizations as diverse as Community Refugee and Immigration Services, Pilot Dogs of Central Ohio and the Jackson Township Fire Department.
“We formed with the idea that Columbus is a great place to live because of the unsung actions of hard-working, dedicated people,” Oser said in an email. “As such, each of us selected a group to celebrate.”
No mo’ Juggalos
Central Ohio is no longer home to the Gathering of the Juggalos.
Juggalos are devotees of the Insane Clown Posse, the Detroit horrorcore hip-hop duo of Violent J and Shaggy 2 Dope. The Posse dropped their debut record, “Carnival of Carnage,” in 1992 and has amassed a considerable cult following known for black-and-white face paint and spraying each other with gallons of Faygo-brand soda.
The Gathering is the defining event of the Juggalo calendar year, and for the past three years, this multiday music spectacle was held at the Legend Valley Concert Venue and Campground in Licking County.
I visited the Gathering last summer and found most of the Juggalo tribe to be a welcoming and open-minded bunch who admittedly party much harder than your family physician would advise.
I was looking forward to a return visit, but the Gathering pulled up its freak-show carnival stakes this year and moved to Oklahoma City.
Juggalos, we hardly knew ye. But thanks, in the short term at least, for helping to make central Ohio the wonderful and sometimes weird place that it is.