Most people who know me understand that snakes will make me hurt myself.  Over the decades, I've crawled through broken windshields as well as dealing with hazardous materials, bio-hazards and hazardous people.  I've searched dark buildings in the middle of the night looking for grownup, dangerous men.  I did these things in spite of being the poster child for Yellow-Spined Cowardice.

It's been said that my yellow streak is actually visible from outer space so you can understand that my bravery, such as it is, only goes so far.  Drug crazed gang-bangers are one thing but put six ounces of squiggly in front of me and I'll most likely stomp myself unconscious.

By way of example, we were leaving church one sunny Sunday.  I had been particularly good that day because my girlfriend's dad was in attendance and I didn't want to upset him any more than I already had.  Also, one of my teachers, Mrs. Peterson, had her membership there and that broad never forgot anything.

We had just exited the front door when I noticed a slinky specimen the size of a full-grown bison sunning himself on the sidewalk in front of me.  In my normal suave, graceful manner, I jumped straight up, did a triple-axle, then screamed, "Yeow!" and ripped the bark off three of our pastor's trees.

When I hit the ground, I did a kind of sliding, tipie-toe, skip-a-de-doo-da across the grass.  Birds fled in terror and leaves fell as if Jack Frost had made an unscheduled visit.  I heard a young voice in the crowd say, "Hey, cool".

To make matters worse, my leaping about had led the trailing congregation to believe I was in the Spirit and they decided to join in.  I wasn't sure what was going on at the time but there were so many people skipping around with me, I thought maybe we had uncovered a whole den of rattle-monsters,  Believe me, if that had been the case, there would have been a thermo-nuclear, planet-of-the-apes level of destruction.  And the smell wouldn't have passed for flowers either.

As we continued skipping, hopping and flailing through the parking lot, curious neighbors began to fall in with us.  More and more of them came until I appeared to be at the head of a Mongol horde which also included a Zambezi warrior, several American Indian groups, a passing biker gang, a busload of casino gamblers, the residents of a nursing home and the dance troupe with, "Springtime For Hitler".

We sounded like a herd of long-horn stomp dancers and tore up most of the road that runs through town.  We also demolished the mayor's office, our water treatment plant and an illegal moonshine operation before we were done.  Dogs in a three county area were barking, coyotes were howling uncontrollably and cows went dry.  Jet fighters were scrambled, the National Guard went on alert and Iran said they'd give up their nuclear weapons program if we'd just STOP THAT!

If my recall is accurage, I believe the defense system in Cheyenne Mountain jumped to Defcon 3 in response.  I'm sure they didn't know exactly what was happening in Texas on that day but they knew it was loud.

All in all, it was a glorious experience but with all the uproar, I never found out what happened to the snake.  But, I have it on good authority that he'll be in therapy for years to come.  I seem to have that effect on people.  And now (I'm proud to say), reptiles.

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