Posted on 07/11/2024 11:14:06 AM PDT by Red Badger
July 10 (UPI) -- Transit officials in California said a stretch of highway was closed for several hours when a truck overturned and spilled its load of tomatoes into the roadway.
The California Highway Patrol said the truck overturned onto its side on Interstate 5 in Patterson about 8:05 a.m. Tuesday and lost its load of tomatoes onto the roadway and shoulder.
Caltrans District 10 said crews cleared the tomatoes from the center divide to give northbound traffic a chance to ketchup.
The cause of the crash was unclear, and the road was fully reopened by 12:30 p.m.
was the driver on the sauce?
“Caltrans District 10 said crews cleared the tomatoes from the center divide to give northbound traffic a chance to ketchup.”
Made me smile.
Something like that happened in Wisconsin once, only it was a truckload of cranberries.
Sun dried tomatoes?
Soon to be rotten
Throw in some jalapenos and we’ve got salsa!...................
That stretch of I-5 is about as straight as can be. There are only a couple of on/off-ramps and they’re almost as straight. Mechanical failure? Inattentive driving? Trying to avoid idiots? Not much to go on.
I’m only here to ketchup with the news.
... it was a truckload of cranberries........
What a bittersweet thing to happen.......................
Cellphone texting my guess...............
Heathen. You forgot the onion and some lime juice.
He was behind schedule and was trying to ketchup..................
What a load of...tomatoes!
Harry Chapin - 30,000 Pounds of Bananas
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OGldNpngDws
That’s a nasty mess.
Rotting tomatoes have a .... fragrance... about them.
Although, likely enough, they’ll be sundried before long.
“It was just after dark when the truck started down
the hill that leads into Scranton Pennsylvania.
Carrying thirty thousand pounds of bananas.
Carrying thirty thousand pounds (hit it Big John) of bananas.
He was a young driver,
just out on his second job.
And he was carrying the next day’s pasty fruits
for everyone in that coal-scarred city
where children play without despair
in backyard slag-piles and folks manage to eat each day
about thirty thousand pounds of bananas.
Yes, just about thirty thousand pounds (scream it again, John) .
He passed a sign that he should have seen,
saying “shift to low gear, a fifty dollar fine my friend.”
He was thinking perhaps about the warm-breathed woman
who was waiting at the journey’s end.
He started down the two mile drop,
the curving road that wound from the top of the hill.
He was pushing on through the shortening miles that ran down to the depot.
Just a few more miles to go,
then he’d go home and have her ease his long, cramped day away.
and the smell of thirty thousand pounds of bananas.
Yes the smell of thirty thousand pounds of bananas.
He was picking speed as the city spread its twinkling lights below him.
But he paid no heed as the shivering thoughts of the nights
delights went through him.
His foot nudged the brakes to slow him down.
But the pedal floored easy without a sound.
He said “Christ!”
It was funny how he had named the only man who could save him now.
He was trapped inside a dead-end hellslide,
riding on his fear-hunched back
was every one of those yellow green
I’m telling you thirty thousand pounds of bananas.
Yes, there were thirty thousand pounds of bananas.
He barely made the sweeping curve that led into the steepest grade.
And he missed the thankful passing bus at ninety miles an hour.
And he said “God, make it a dream!”
as he rode his last ride down.
And he said “God, make it a dream!”
as he rode his last ride down.
And he sideswiped nineteen neat parked cars,
clipped off thirteen telephone poles,
hit two houses, bruised eight trees,
and Blue-Crossed seven people.
it was then he lost his head,
not to mention an arm or two before he stopped.
And he slid for four hundred yards
along the hill that leads into Scranton, Pennsylvania.
All those thirty thousand pounds of bananas.
You know the man who told me about it on the bus,
as it went up the hill out of Scranton, Pennsylvania,
he shrugged his shoulders, he shook his head,
and he said (and this is exactly what he said)
“Boy that sure must’ve been something.
Just imagine thirty thousand pounds of bananas.
Yes, there were thirty thousand pounds of mashed bananas.
Of bananas. Just bananas. Thirty thousand pounds.
of Bananas. not no driver now. Just bananas!” “
/Lyrics from The Harry Chapin Archive at Harrychapin.com\
And Garlic, Cilantro.
Change the Cilantro to Basil and Parsley, drop the Peppers and add a couple of Tablespoons of Very Fine Grind Coffee. Bring to a boil then reduce heat to Simmer for a few hours, taste and adjust seasoning Salt and Pepper. If it tastes bitter add a few Tablespoons of Sugar or Baking Soda, stir and let Simmer for a few minutes and taste again.
Get Your choice of Pasta ready.
Refrigerate or Freeze any leftover Sauce.
Two fun things come to mind.
Around Northern Kalifornia agriculture areas, you can always tell when the tomatoes are being harvested. On the sides of the freeway onramps, the pavement is red. The harvesters fill up the open-air containers, and the sharp turns spill the tomatoes out.
Also, while listening to the radio traffic/news report, I once heard this from a news reader. “A truck has overturned on Hwy 880 and spilled a lot of white powder. The road crews are on their way with straws.”
Well they are now
Disclaimer: Opinions posted on Free Republic are those of the individual posters and do not necessarily represent the opinion of Free Republic or its management. All materials posted herein are protected by copyright law and the exemption for fair use of copyrighted works.