Well, tonight I'm driving home from work in the new '06. Sunroof open, full tank of 93, a little Stan Getz going on. The odo tapping at 400. Fresh Pilot Sports just starting to get really grippy. The R purring along like a car has no right to. A beautiful spring evening. Life is GOOD.<p>I stopped at a light, in a row of about 15 cars. Out of nowhere comes this bird with a Nordon bombsight. He picks ME. Just ME. Right up the center of the hood, up the windshield and through the sunroof. Hits the front passenger dead center. A big ugly hit. <p>And it's Atacama. <p>I swear, they're out to get me, these little beasts.<p>Leaving work tonight, I joked with my partners in the parking lot that my interior was genuine deerskin, with a mouseskin-shifter knob. I'm sure the woodland mob must have overheard me and ordered the hit. <p>Fortunately, I was only ten minutes from home. I made it in eight. Lexol cleaner, a bucket and a hose quickly saved the day. <p>No apparent harm . . . this time.