Poultry perambulations

I grew up in a town that was once mostly farmland, as a lot of New Jersey was before World War Two. Yes, even areas within a 25 mile radius of New York City were pasture or fields of corn, tomatoes, whatever produce you'd find in the supermarket. Over time, especially after the war, the farms were replaced by suburban neighborhoods. Nonetheless, a few produce stands and even some small farms are still around today. They sell mostly shrubbery, trees, flower plants and other stuff you'd use to spruce up your landscaping.

One such stand is on a busy street in my old hometown. While the farmland long ago disappeared under tract housing, the stand lives on. In fact, the owners kept a cranky old rooster, who strutted around the property and pecked at anyone he didn't like.

My bank had a branch a half block down and across the street from the place. A few years ago, I was driving there when I saw the ornery rooster standing on the center line of the street, frantically turning his head back and forth, perplexed. Not a sight you often see these days in suburban New Jersey.

Aloud, I asked myself, "Why is that chicken crossing the road?"

I started laughing so hard that I had to pull over.

Fast forward a few years. On a lark, I submitted the rooster encounter to the New York Times for the "New Jersey Diary" they used to carry. It appeared a few weeks later with a kicker from the editor: "Why did the chicken cross the road? To open a chicking account."

I swear, it's all absolutely true.