Well, folks. I am travelling on business again. Which means I had to drive through the Utah desert at a high rate of speed again to make it to bed by a decent hour. And in doing so, Man, Nature, and God tried to kill me. And the cops tried to jail me. But to no avail. Truly a magical night!
First, I was lost in Salt Lake City. After years and years of futile construction, they still haven’t got the roads worked out. Or I’m too stupid to understand. Whatever the case, OK, now I’m 30 minutes late.
So I take the Olds out on the highway. Hmmm…there are no white or yellow lines on the highway. Because the road is covered with a layer of road salt, dirt, and sand. In fact, I can’t tell which lane I’m in, or if it is two lanes one way and one the other, or just very wide lanes, or what. Hmmmm…
So I’m listening to The Wings play “Mull of Kintyre”, when God decides to kill me. Well, she must have been having a bad night, because she failed. On a sweeping turn which would normally be fine at 80 on dry pavement, well, snow has blown across the road. The car goes sideways at 80 mph, as I’m singing with Paul and Linda. The car drifts sideways about 45 degrees - so I’m canted 45 degrees to my direction of very fast travel. Somehow, I don’t panic, and I try to regain control. The car then hits dry pavement, and the tires hit with a horrifying screech, as the car whips back and forth fishtailing. Somehow…I dampened the oscillations, and straightened it out. Somehow. So now I’m sweating. And going 70, instead of 80.
Second - it’s Man’s turn to try and kill me. The road has cleared up a bit, and I can tell it is in fact a 2-lane road. Hmm…OK, I’m listenting to Rush play “Red Sector A”, when I notice that a hill is approaching, and there are headlights coming over it on both sides of the road. For a nearly-tragic duration, my brain grapples with this. “That’s odd”, says my brain, “if there are cars in both lanes coming towards us, just seconds over this hill, at a closing speed of 140+ mph, wherever are we to go?” Well, a semi and a car trying to pass it on a hill come over the crest. The driver of the car is not going to yield. The semi driver would sooner throw his Judds tape out the window than yield. So I must yield - but how? I slam the car over into the shoulder and the snowbank at about 60, snow plowing and flying, completely blinding me. I set my teeth and scream, waiting for the sick crunch of metal and impact I remember so well.
And there is silence. I open my eyes, and see only white. The windshield is buried in snow. Stupidly, I try the wipers, and they work - I am not, in fact, entombed in a snowbank, but on the shoulder, kinda high-centered on the snow plowed off the road. It is pitch dark, and I am alone. I try backing off of it, and the wheels spin. I get out and look - one wheel has grip, the other not. Stupid damn open differential. So I start digging with the Avis ice scraper, realize how damn stupid that is, get back in, and by pressing the brakes as hard as possible and gunning the engine, I get the wheel on the firm surface to spin, and drag the car off the snow. Two minutes later, I’m cruising again.
Then…this last one is freaky, and I don’t expect anyone to believe it. I am up to 75-80 again, singing to Madonna. Yes, I brought some odd CD’s, so what. Anyhow, as “Sky Fits Heaven” was on, for some reason I started daydreaming of my “secret Doper” who loves me. And I for some reason, I know not why, slowed down to about 60 (the speed limit), just because I thought - “This is too risky - I’ve had two close calls tonight, and I really want to see her soon, and hug her and hold her.” Sure enough, just 3 minutes later in “Shanti/Ashanti”, I crest a small hill and see antelope. Antelope clustered in the road, doing Goddess-knows-what. I slam the brakes on, holding the wheel straight, and stop just 20 feet or so from where the first one was previously standing. As I watched them scamper off in blind animal terror, I thought - had I been going 75-80…who knows? Antelope coming through the windshield, the crunch of bone as his horns pierce my breast and nail me to the seats? Jeeze.
The rest of the trip was uneventful, except I found out not only was I un-killable, I was un-touchable too. I blasted past 2 State Troopers, both times going almost 20 over the limit, and they never even flashed their lights at me. And then, near the end of my trip, a Highway Patrol passed me when I was going 70 in a 55, without doing a thing to me. Things went in three’s tonight - 3 attempts at death, 3 attempts at a ticket.
So then I come back online, and see a surrealistic Pit thread devoted to me. And laugh my freaking ass off! You know? Sometimes, you need a few reminders to help to keep things in perspective I guess.
And no, I wasn’t trying to be reckless. I was reckless, true, but I did not set out with that in mind. In fact, I was mainly hurrying to try and call my special Doper before she hit the bed, but as it turned out, I missed her anyhow. But at least I’m still here, to call tomorrow.
