FIVE MINUTES AS A TURTLE GOD

Caring about everything except monkeys can be a pain. But even excluding monkeys, 'everything' is a large category. It naturally includes turtles, who carry their houses wherever they go, so they don't care about much other than sandbagging until the next meal comes around. And under the Big Law of caring about almost everything, it goes without saying that sooner or later a turtle will show up.

In keeping with the Fine Print, I was driving up the mountain road when I came around a curve and there in the middle of the way was a big old turtle, named Shelby as it happens - must be some international history there - enjoying a sandbagging interlude on his way to a session of heavy-duty sandbagging somewhere on the mythic other side of the road. He was just sitting there like a -- sandbag. Midroad was a good clear spot, warm, in the sun, lotta space around, kick back,, chill,,, hang loose,,,, why not,,,,, what’s the hurry......

His naturally selfish location forced me to pull over to the side of the road to get around him, which I was doing when I thought: if he just stays there, some car or even worse truck is gonna come zipping along in meteoric human time, so I'd better get him to move. I pulled up and stopped with my window right above him, rolled down the glass and gave him a few considered words about how he should hightail his molasses before somebody heedless comes racing up the road in a big turtle squasher.

Shelby turned his head to look up at me with a reptilian onyx eye, in a "What the..." kind of look. I'll bet it was the first time in his long and carefully considered life that he'd ever seen a talking human head sticking out of a big red turtleshell way up in the sky, so far above him that it must be a Turtle God. He seemed to take my words to heart, for in turtle haste he began to maybe lift possibly one leg with the distant intent of perhaps one day arriving at the wayfaraway side of the road for some world-quality sandbagging. Since at that speed he would likely never arrive alive, in a louder, more Godly voice I told him to hotfoot it and he did, in his coldfooted fashion.

He reached the roadside in what must be a Turtle Olympic record of just a few minutes that will likely stand forever. While he panted his way across with my encouragement, I stayed in place so that any car coming up behind me would have to wait, but none came. None came because some real Turtle God up there cares about caring about almost everything, though you never know this until you join the club. To say nothing of the chance to become part of Turtle Mythology... They've been around way longer than we have, so we're talking Big Time here.