I had one of those fancy satellite radios installed in my car a couple of years ago.

I got it primarily to listen to Cincinnati Reds games. But lately, the ol' Reds aren't doing very well. As a matter of fact, they would have a better chance of winning if they would just pick nine guys out of the stands right before game time and let those guys start.

It's pretty sad really.

So I have given up on the Reds going anywhere this year (as a Reds fan this happens to us every August; as a matter of fact, our season is basically from the first of April until the first of August because we can hang in there in the standings until August, then the bottom drops out) so I have opted to keep my XM radio set on a couple of favorite music channels.

So the other day I was cruising down the road, minding my own business, singing along with Sammy Kershaw:

"So I made her the queen of my double-wide trailer, "With the polyester curtains and the redwood deck. "Sometimes she runs and I've got to trail her, "Dang her black heart and her pretty red neck."

Classic lyrics.

Anyway, the Sammy Kershaw song went off and then this awful music came on.

And in my younger days, I would have just let it go, you know, until the next song came on. But now that I'm getting older, I don't have time to listen to bad music. And I just ain't going to do it. I'm just not. I refuse.

I have eleventy-hundred channels to choose from so I figured I would just find another one. I didn't care which channel, just as long as it wasn't bad music. It could have been the Oprah channel, the Love Song channel, the Dead Bluegrass Picker channel or the Soybean Report network.

I quickly reached for the XM Radio control dial and my hand sort of slipped off the dial, but I quickly regained control and switched over the the 70s channel. While I was focused on the radio display, the ol' Blazer had sort of coasted off course. When I looked up there were some big trees right there in front of my windshield.

I mean they were RIGHT THERE, practically within spitting distance. There was a possum on one of the branches that had jumped up on two legs and had its front paws outstretched in a defensive posture as if to fend off my car, its mouth open (you ever heard a possum scream?; it'll cause the hair on the back of your neck to stand up) and its eyes stretched to dinner-plate size.

So, using my super-quick lightning-reflexes, I swerved to the left while at the same time taking my foot off the accelerator and before you knew it, I was back under control and happily on my way. All was safe and sound, except for maybe that poor possum. Bless his heart. He's probably going to need some therapy.

But it sort of shook me up and I'm not sure what was playing on the 70s channel at the time but I seem to recall hearing "Life In the Fast Lane" by The Eagles.

And then the two halves of my brain started having a conversation about what had just transpired (they do that sometimes).

BRAIN HALF A: "Man, what's wrong with you? You know better than that. You know better than to be fooling with gizmos while your vehicle is in motion. We could have been killed."

BRAIN HALF B: "I know. I know. You're right. It won't happen again."

BRAIN HALF A: "Well, I'm glad you recognize how dangerous that is and are reluctant to try it again. Why did you do that anyway?"

BRAIN HALF B: "Well, because bad music came on." BRAIN HALF A: "What? Bad music you say?"

BRAIN HALF B: "Yep."

BRAIN HALF A: "Well, we don't have to put up with that. Not at our age."

BRAIN HALF B: "So you agree that ..."

BRAIN HALF A: "Yes sir ..."

BRAIN HALVES IN UNISON: "...We'd rather be dead than listen to bad music."

BRAIN HALVES LAUGH, THEN HIGH-FIVE EACH OTHER (A LITTLE GRAY MATTER SPLATTERS).

BRAIN HALF A: "Say, what was the deal with that possum (giggle)?"

BRAIN HALF B: "I know, I know. Did you see the look on that thing's face (chuckle)? Priceless."

Klonie Jordan (editor@gaffneyledger.com) is executive editor of The Gaffney Ledger.