Blog Post 006

My life has never been so violent or exciting that I’m in a situation where I am narrowly missed by a gunshot.. or nearly thrown from the roof of a building in a hand-to-hand combat exchange, although I think perhaps I’d do fine in the latter.. but I have been in a lot of car accidents. Somebody should seriously take my license away. Seriously, the first one was so stupid. I didn’t get my license until I was eighteen, because my mom, ever the helicopter parent; was probably scared to death I would die in a car accident. Good on you mom, I’m starting to agree. But she told me she would give me the money she would’ve spent on driving school when I was old enough to skip driver’s ed. I am certain, now; in retrospect, that was a wise decision……… lol. I let my fourteen year old brother drive my car on the stretch of road that our Junior and High schools were on. It was later in the afternoon, in the summer, and nobody was around. What could go wrong? Well, I was stupid and assumed everybody knew what I knew, because I only know what is common sense.. (do you get that joke?!) so I did not tell my brother you have to let off the gas, in order to break. So he smoked the stop sign at the end of the road. Yikes. There would be another stop sign soon, keep driving little brother! Fuck, I am a genius, I’ll get us out of this. I won’t go into every detail that I experienced in real time over the course of the next two or three minutes, even though I absolutely could go into very articulate detail in recalling the incident for some reason, so I’ll just fast forward to the part where we end up in a ditch and my brother is crying and begging me to come up with a lie that gets him out of the driver’s seat. Deal, I was hoping you’d say that. It was my fault anyway! Too bad the little asshole told mom what really happened the next morning before two-a-days. Shame, it was such a well thought out lie.. why else would mom interrogate him to get the truth out? Haha So much for Saturn (, and the hopes of my little brother ever getting a license..). (btw my first car was a 2007 Saturn (it was gold), that my mom bought from a skeezy craigslist dude that scammed us in the exchange..) I shared a 2008 Jeep Grand Cherokee (it was green) with my parents, until they bought me a Ford Explorer (I don’t remember the year, but it was gold too) and that was among the best decisions that they ever made. Financially, not so much, that thing guzzled gas that I didn’t have to pay for, but I loved to drive. I don’t think I ever crashed the Jeep, but that is the only car I’ve ever “owned” that I can say that about. But the safety of that Tank was satisfactory. I crashed twice in that car, and both of them were scary, and cold.. well, not just cold, very icy. We got hit with a lot of ice storms my senior year. The first accident I was in was brutal, but I wasn’t driving. I am a good driver. It was the ice’s fault for the second one, that’s my story and I’m sticking to it! My mom took my brother to school that morning, because she didn’t trust me to drive him in these conditions. She would’ve driven me herself too, if she had a say.. but I was a senior, eighteen, and way too cool to have my mom drive me to school anymore. When I was on my way, she passed me on her way back and was trying to flag me down, but I just kept driving. I looked in my rear view and she was standing in the cold, trying to stay balanced on the icy road, waving her arms at me. But I was on my way to school. I will recall this one in articulate detail. I was rounding a bend on a backroad shortcut I took to school and there was a sharp curve going up, and a sharp curve going down after. I made it up the first curve, no issues. But as soon as that incline turned into a decline, I had no control over what happened next. The car fishtailed immediately (did I mention the tread on the Explorer’s tires was as bald as my butt on the day I was born? well..), I was moving at about 45mph.. sideways, taking up both lanes of the street. I frantically threw the steering wheel in the other direction, and the car was delayed in doing so, but it flipped the direction I was fishtailing as I ended up in somebody’s yard.. I am not proud of what I did next, but I don’t wear a seatbelt when I drive (it raises the stakes).. I had the choice between kissing the world goodbye, through the signal of a telephone pole.. or hit this unsuspecting family’s poor mailbox.. so anyway, mail went flying everywhere. Seriously, everywhere. It would’ve been cool as a movie scene, I don’t think that family had grabbed their mail in over a week, they had to have been on vacation or something. I did not stop to pick it up though, I was scared and adrenaline activated the flight option as I scurried the rest of my way to school. Wouldn’t you know it though, the school ended up putting out a last second two-hour-delay, just a few minutes before I left for school. The place was a freaking ghost town that day. There weren’t even enough kids at school to call it a full day, so they ended up letting people leave if their parents picked them up or called in, but whatever, I was already there and I wasn’t antsy to get back behind the wheel. It did end up being a fun day though, we didn’t do shit.. after school I went back by the house and the mail and box were already cleaned up. I parked in the middle of the road and walked over, to stare at the marks my tires left in the earth.. I found a magnetic number seven on the ground.. I took it and put it on my car, and it was still on there when my parent’s junked it a year later. A couple of weeks after that, my friends and I all stayed at one of our houses, out in the middle of the boonies. There was another ice storm in the night and when I got up in the morning, half awake, but early because I had wrestling practice; I drove and got myself into my third accident. This one was different. I was tired, really tired from staying up most of the night, but I was driving very carefully because of what had happened before. My focus was still groggy at best, though. I was going around a bend, slowly DAMNIT! But I still started to feel the tires lose tread on the road, and this time a car was coming the other way. I ended up spinning so far to the driver’s side, that I did three-fourths of a full revolution and the back of my Explorer slammed into a hillside that met the road with large earthbound boulders. It didn’t sound good.. but I bounced off of the “wall” and ended up completing the rotation and ended up back in my lane, facing forward, with momentum keeping my car moving as I saw what likely reflected the expression on my face. I saw horror in the other driver’s eyes, as they were in as much danger as I was in at that moment, which was passing us by. I stopped at the stop sign at the end of this road, because there was a small gravel parking lot there. I got out to look at my car.. to see no damage. Not even a fucking scratch. I didn’t even stop to ask how. I couldn’t catch my breath during my drive and I remember that practice sucked, but those winter break practices were designed to be like that anyway, so whatever. I don’t remember why my parent’s did, but they got rid of my Explorer the summer after my freshman year of college. What a shame. I used to listen to music on the powerful sound system that wonderful baby had, so loudly; that I bet you could probably hear me start my car at home, from the high school (Fifteen minute drive, seven if you’re eighteen year old me, though). Next was the Malibu.. (a two thousand.. and… uhhhhhh, idk. It was silver though). I don’t remember what accident I got in with that one, but I remember it ran like shit because I crashed it at some point. One time it died on the side of the road, a random morning after I overslept for a track meet, my junior year of college (so I had to have crashed it as a sophomore.. I wonder if I was drifting in it one night). So I had to drive myself. Check in for shot put was at ten a.m. that day, and my car died a mile or so away from the facility, at nine forty-five a.m. I fucken made it to that track meet though, minutes to spare. I broke my school’s indoor shot put record that day, too. I did have some things in my backseat that should not have been there, and I had a very, very tense conversation with a state highway patrolman. Not outwardly tense, because I am an unfortunately good actor, but inwardly? Very much so. Nothing came of it though, he congratulated me on my school record and stayed in his cruiser until the tow truck came. I junked that car with my favorite CD in the disc track though.. I still have the case, no disc though. Shame. I drove a 2014 Chevy Malibu after that. (blue) I crashed that car trying to pull an illegal u-turn at a road next to the Get-Go near my college; while I was delivering pizza for Papa John’s my senior year of college, now. The guy that I made hit me with my stupidity, was super nice about the situation, but his truck smelled like my apartment before I left for work, so I got that. He told me to get out of there before we had to exchange insurance because there was no damage to his truck, just my car. But we were both okay. I would crash that car again later, similar circumstances, but this time would be me mindlessly turning too tightly, and scraping a fence.. so that wasn’t really a crash, per say; but the onlookers got a kick out of it. 2017 Nissan Altima next. Motha Lucken Midnight Edition, SR; Charcoal Gray. Fuck, I feel cool when I drive that thing, nicest car I’ve ever owned. I crashed it hydroplaning one night on my way home from coaching a wrestling practice, about five years after I graduated college.. which would make it about, oh, pretty much exactly two years ago. Did I mention that I may have let those tires get a bit bald too. I wasn’t even speeding or being reckless. I was going up an inclined curve and my car basically slipped on a banana peel. For real, that is basically the only accurate way I can describe it. One minute; I’m chilling with some music playing, the next; I’m staring at dead branches and the brush of a tree line, covered in rain. I got a fucken ticket that time. Dick.. Well, at least I still drive that car.. Not really, but I still have it, at least. It needs some repairs I can’t afford right now, hashtag starving artist life, amirite?!… Yawn. Anyway, I’m driving my mom’s car right now. I’ve been in two accidents with it so far in the last six months.. No damage in either, I’m actually getting pretty good at crashing cars these days, I must confess. It’s actually funny, maybe my mom and I have the same curse. Doomed to crash cars for all of our lives. She’s a lot like me. Living on autopilot—sorry; cruise control—while our heads make movies for us to “enjoy” during the trip. She has been in a lot of car accidents too. Maybe even more than me, not sure though. Shit, she’s even had the engine of a truck she drove, that my dad owned, EXPLODE! When I tell that story, I like to add that I was sitting in the front seat of the truck when it happened. Because I thought I was, when I was younger. That’s how I remember the story when my parents tell it, at least. I imagine my view from the back seat; I was just a baby, so I was in my little car seat—drooling on myself and giggling, waiting for momma or papa to grab me and bring me inside, so I can see my cousins. So much fun we’ll ha— BOOM!!! Hahaha, something like that. One time she was in a really bad accident though, with my little brother. At the time, I didn’t think it was all that bad an accident. Nobody did. The crossroad that she got in her accident at, had a history of crashes. She was the thirteenth accident at that intersection in the last year or two before hers, and the first twelve all had a 100% rate of one or more fatalities involved. My brother and my mom survived. So did the person that hit them. But it scarred us. In ways that we, and definitely not really anybody else, could see, but also could have never really imagined, either. BUT, that’s a story for an even better day. They did install a stop sign at that crossroad a few years later, though. But we already owed the hospital hundreds of thousands by then. HA! Nope, not going into it. Sorry. Anyway, I got into an accident when I first got home a few months ago. I wanted to get a new nic vape, but my license was expired and it was the day I got back to Ohio, so I hadn’t renewed it yet. I thought about not driving, and I didn’t like that option. So, I was driving on a road that split into two lanes, for passing, and this truck was trying to pass me with very little space between me and the truck and trailer in front of me. I just kept driving, paying him no mind, until the.. lovely person—I’m sure; promptly rammed me off the road. I lost control, but regained it, and caught up with him to try and force him to pull over. He never did though, he just kept driving. What could I do anyway? I was driving my mom’s car, with no license. I guess I would’ve had to, what; fight him? Yeah, I’m glad he didn’t stop. Slight damage, little dent and scrape this time though.. I suppose.. this brings us to the reason I’m even writing this fucken bullshit right now. I got into another accident yesterday. No damage again.. like I said, I’m getting efficient with my accidents. I was driving and listening to a new demo track I recorded two days ago. I was almost to work, too. I was in the passing lane, but getting close to the city, all semi trucks typically merge to the passing lane through the city zone. So I merged from the passing lane, to let the semi in front of me do the same thing that the two semis in front of him were doing; merging to the passing lane through the city zone. So I was humming along with my song in the not-passing (idk, wtf do you call the other lane? I skipped driver’s ed..) lane, when I noticed the semi I had just let get over, now had his turn signal indicating his intentions to merge back into the lane I was in, but I’m halfway between the end of his trailer and the cab he’s driving in. Well.. this shouldn’t be happening.. But it is. He’s not really going to merge until I pass, is he? Oh.. Oh, fuck. No, he is. This fucking guy really is. Then Michael meet Grass. I have replayed the circumstances in my head for a full day now. I don’t really know how I didn’t die, unless.. I don’t know how the car didn’t flip. I was teetering with only two tires on either side of the car on the ground at a time, for what felt like an eternity, but likely wasn’t even five full seconds. There was an exit sign and a construction sign, and I was teleported back in time to the point where I had to make the choice of telephone pole or mailbox.. only this time I split them both. I still don’t drive with a seatbelt. It still adds to the stakes. But fuck if I’m lying, I really am getting better at driving through the chaos of the daily commute. I survived, and I didn’t even stop my car. My fight or flight kicked in, and it chose to fight. I didn’t understand it yesterday when it happened, and it really unsettled me that I let myself get so angry and do what I did next, but I chased him down. I got back on the road, hammering on the horn while I passed the semis he ran me off the road to pass, and I got in front of him. I didn’t break check him, but I did put the breaks on to get this dude to pull over and talk to me, among other obscene gestures, which I regret. He took an exit that I already passed, but I know this area better than him evidently. I took the next one, and drove parallel with him a street over, until I was able to turn and meet him head on. I was going to just park in the middle of the intersection to cut off the runner, but decided against it and turned left.. up the wrong way, down a one way street. I pulled u-turn through a parking lot and got behind the semi at another red light, and ran up to his door to get him to fucking stop, because what he did was wrong and I wanted to talk about it. He ran a red light to get away. Can’t say I blame him. But when I told my friends that story after, nobody responded but one. He told me he’s glad I’m okay, but brake-checking a semi truck is probably not the way to go about things. I agree, but what is the right way to go about things? I thought I was going to die, because this person—who gets paid to drive for a living, was doing his job so mindlessly, I almost did fucking died because of him. And nobody batted an eye when I told them. I almost died, and the world didn’t blink. I don’t blame them, of course. I wrote a poem about what happened. I sent that, and a picture (with a really neat camera flare) that I took of the inside of my car while I was in the heat of the moment, trying to get the plates of the semi truck driver—to friends, and they didn’t respond. The same with my Instagram story. I had my one friend give me the brake check advice, and one other check in with me and told me he was glad to hear I am okay. But other than those two, and another friend I called and told the whole story to—as if it were a movie scene, which I think he thought was awesome; nobody even gave a shit. That’s fine, too. I almost died, not them. So why should I want to be checked up on, and asked if I’m okay; especially since I never say it, but that stuff kinda bothers me when people do it to me. There was a bad accident a couple of weeks ago on the same highway, a few miles before where I was run off the road yesterday. I was stuck at a standstill for an hour, I was late for work, again. There’s been a lot of flooding in the fields and on the roads around my house lately (my fault too, actually, which is a whole hilarious other thing), so I’ve been late a few times in the last few months. I began to curse the fool who didn’t learn how to drive properly. I was angry that I was going to be late for work again, and once again; it wouldn’t my fault. Right? Right?! While I was stewing, it dawned on me that somebody might have died, and I was worried about being late to work again. Somebody’s life could be fundamentally altered, permanently; but I would be late to sit on my ass for four hours and pretend my job is more than it is and that upset me. I got a text from one of my boss/coworkers (the hierarchy is still unclear to me), while I was stopped. She sent a Facebook post with photos of the accident’s cause (nobody was hurt), and I was relieved that A.) this was no longer another excuse I was using to be late to work, and it was a real thing, but B.) Nobody’s lives were fundamentally altered, permanently. Right? right? See, things happen in Life, everyday; to Everybody. I was enjoying the last week of Invincible and The Boys airing the same night; this morning at about five a.m., and I was able to escape my head, finally. For a time. I watched Invincible first, that’s my favorite, then The Boys. But at the end of the episode, I was playing guitar, because my thoughts are more conducive when I do, and I was reflecting on my rewatch of the season two finale of Euphoria from yesterday, (I mean, c’mon, with one of my two favorite shows ending for the season today, I have to find the next distraction to cling to, right?) so I could start the third season, and Ash’s death really stuck with me this time. Why, now that I have declared myself a pacifist for the first time in my life, did my instinct choose “fight” this time, but “flight” so many times in the past, before I claimed to be a pacifist? I don’t actually have that answer today, even though my writing has so much vigor today (imo). I don’t believe in any definitive answers anymore, because I can only be told things in Human, and I don’t think I trust Humans. Not maliciously, but cautiously. We are dangerous, especially when we aren’t even aware—let alone mindful, of how dangerous, and volatile we are. I almost died yesterday, and the world didn’t blink. But today I still choose to reflect on why I want to fight in a war that leaves an unblinking world, largely unaltered. That’s probably exactly why.