Shortly before noon last Tuesday, at a busy downtown intersection by the Armory, a man walked into the street in the usual fashion: looking down at his phone, unconcerned with the traffic heading his way. Two thousand years ago this guy would have wandered into a Roman chariot race looking at a scroll.
Then he looked up, stopped and jumped back in shock: There was some huge poultry-type thing in the street. It was the Downtown Turkey, as we will now call this brave and stupid creature. Downtown was strolling in the middle of the street at a relaxed pace, looking right and left like a celebrity in a parade.
Drivers who would normally not pull over if an ambulance filled their rearview mirror slammed on the brakes.
You thought:
1. If this happened every day for a week, there'd be talk of installing a Turkey Lane, complete with bollards — which is actually a post but sounds like another bird.
2. Where did it come from? They don't fly, do they?
Yes. Wild turkeys can fly. They roost in trees at night, and it's not as though they climb up there like a phone-pole lineman.
3. If some speeding driver had hit the turkey and sent it somersaulting over his car, the driver behind him might have said, "I've had angry drivers flip me the bird before, but not like this."
