Last night, as my pal Rick and I drive through the wooded highways of north Sioux City, we see a deer to the side of the road. He's eating grass.

We slow down. Look at it. Shine our headlights on its face.

As we drive away, Rick says, "That deer needed to get his shit together."

Pause.

"I don't know," I say. "He seemed pretty cool."

Rick thinks, smiles, and laughs.

"Yeah, he did have his shit together, didn't he?"