Stuffed Carnage

9:10AM. Thursday November 14, 2002
Southbound US Hwy. 101, just outside of San Jose

You see a lot of strange things in California. I’ve gotten used to most of them, but I am surprised every once in a while. Today’s first surprise came in the form of stuffed carnage.

Bill and I are heading out of San Jose to see a customer. Our route takes down Highway 101 through late morning commuters and road construction. I’m cruising southward in our rented Nissan Maxima, which is a welcome upgrade from the Ford Escort that Hertz was originally planning to provide. Just as appears that traffic is going to unclog, the three lanes of cars in front of us start to brake and swerve.

Southbound traffic is slowing to avoid an explosion of stuffed toys on the highway. Bits of teddy bear and cupie doll are strewn across the asphalt. A headless Powerpuff Girl bounces off of a truck grill. It looks as if a booth at the state fair exploded across the highway.

I fully expect a medivac team old grandmothers with sewing equipment to rush to the scene in an attempt to salvage the dozens of paraplegic toy creatures. Thoughts of teddy bears on crutches fill my mind as I turn the steering wheel to avoid a collision with a multi-colored kitten. I wonder what will happen to these injured animals in the aftermath of this trauma. Can the streets of San Jose handle the influx of homeless animals, wandering the streets in wheelchairs holding cardboard signs reading “Will Cuddle For Food.”

Oh well, time to keep driving. Bill and I roll down the highway, passing a sign advertising “round pizzas cut into square pieces.” I am tempted to call the phone number on the sign, but I decide that I’ve had enough weird for one morning.