About That Car…May 21, 2009
As you gaze upon the burning wreckage that is our banner, you are probably asking yourself, “The hell does that have to do with fancy plans and/or pants?” I could give you some explanation like the burned car is representative of the world’s crushing effect on even the best laid plans or that my favorite polyester pants do not comply with California’s especially stringent fire codes.
Neither would be particularly true.
Here’s the story of that car:
Are you aware that your brain can be made to panic and make severely wrong choices even if the situation does not warrant that? For instance: you are riding with someone and tell them to go right. As they turn right, quickly yell loudly, “No! Right! Right!” Despite the fact that they are going right, the instinctive reaction is to yank the wheel in the opposite direction.
I didn’t know this. My carpooling passenger did. (He said he did it for a “larf,” which is apparently British for “you almost died laughing, except that you died and I laughed.”)
We narrowly missed the oncoming semi only to t-bone a truck full of Aquanet. The thing went up like a Christmas tree on the 4th of July, taking with it the evening plans of hundred of bums. I was hurled through the windshield and onto the burning wreckage.
It wasn’t pretty.
Have you seen Nightmare on Elm Street? It was like that. Johnny Depp was there. He pulled me from the wreckage, smoothly lit an unfiltered cigarette off my burning shirt and proceeded to give me very full-flavored CPR (I know!).
I thought, “Wait till I tell the guys at work!”
I headed to my job (I work in metal fabrication), still in a fair amount of pain. I don’t know if it was the wooziness or perhaps my excitement, but something got lost in translation. The general consensus became, “You’re late for work because you were making out with Johnny Depp?”
Within 45 minutes, my ass had been thoroughly kicked and my car set on fire.