Splat

August 1, 2008
On the road from Quebec to New Brunswick

Every bus driver in the world knows this, but it’s news to me. When you are driving a vehicle that has a straight up-and-down front and no projecting hood to divert the air stream up and over the roof, every bug that happens to be in your path ends up splattered across your windshield. Now I recognize that car travelers experience bug splat too, but not in the sheer numbers and size of splat. Bug insides are generally yellow. They must consist of sugar, digestive juices and Crazy Glue, because if they sit on your hot windshield for longer than 15 seconds, they become permanent. A thorough dowsing with spray followed by a few swipes of the windshield wiper only extends the size of splat, and for some reason, its density. Soon you find yourself viewing the world through a 2x3 inch space in a 3x8 foot window. So much for scenic vistas. When you get to your destination, you haul out the special broom that you dip in soapy water, and you scrub scrub and scrub some more. If you happen to have a ladder with you, you can get up close to the splat and use a razor to chip away at the most resistant ones, but all the while, you are thinking that this is the perfect example of wasted effort, because the minute you turn the key in the ignition, every bug within fifteen miles will hear its clarion call and come to put its mark on your nice clean windshield. And so it goes.