tammytoes

a long overdue list of things that make me happy. in no particular order.

my unicorn kite. kung fu hustle. drive-in movies. nina totenberg reading supreme court transcripts. the ramones. laughing time with ray. derby, derby, and more derby. sidewalk poetry. sparkly underwear. greek food. long distance emails. being an aunt. motivated students. getting shit done, but at a leisurely pace. our cuisinart. powdered gatorade. rainy spring. blooming trees. high quality trouser socks. the new door of my honda civic. pondering possibilities. writing. endurance. sore legs. Peter Jackson. sleeping in. rabbits. airport margaritas. cheeky postcards. dreaming.

sweet dreams to you and you and you and you. and you over there, too.

I recieved a rather large package containing a lengthy prospectus and other paperwork from the fine folks who administer my 403(B), and the outside of the envelope read, “You could have been reading this online.”

Okay, fine. Point taken. But I’m not feeling like I really need to be lectured to by an envelope. Besides, they COULD have given me the option sometime of opting out of mailers.

I just ate a grip of M&Ms.

On Friday morning, I was involved in an auto accident. More specifically, a man backing out of a blind alley in a 24′ flatbed truck carrying construction materials struck my car and trashed the passenger side of it. I didn’t see the truck before or during the accident – I don’t know what it looked like when he hit. The accident was the best possible set of permutations that could have occured: passenger side and not driver side; no passenger driving with me; both vehicles driving slowly; the construction truck hitting pretty squarely on the door portion of the car. In my imagination, I play other, less fortunate, permutations: truck crashing into driver side of car and, consequently, me; a high speed version in which the construction truck pushes the car out in the other lane of traffic; the truck smashing into the front or back end of the car, dealing a large amount of damage; and the high speed version with the truck smashing the front or rear portion of the car, sending me spinning out into the roadway like a whirling auto dervish.

As it happened, I walked away from the accident without a scratch or physical injury. No amount of praise for blessings can express my relief and thankfulness.

I have no recollection of the sound the car made as the truck smashed into it. I can channel the awful metal-on-metal screeching sound that I’ve heard from other accidents, but I can’t remember how the impact sounded on Friday. What I recall distinctly is the sound and feeling of an explosion of glass into my car. I am so glad that I didn’t see the truck as it approached or hit my car. There was no telltale squeal of brakes that identifies most auto accidents, for neither of us had the time.

I have never been in an accident. Confusing, scary, and awful are just not strong enough words.

The police officer who reported to the scene was classic policeman: broad, uber-masculine, mirrored shades. He was nice, though, and so was the driver. I felt for him: he was cited for his part of the accident, and he was just doing his job. I met the nicest tow truck driver in the world named Carlos. The fine folks at Bob’s Autobody and Paint in Lakewood are polite and personable. The rental car agent was too-perky. I wondered, at moments, if she was that perky to people who had been involved in injury accidents. She was so perky it was innappropriate.

Carlos has two pieces of advice for the world. #1: if you’re involved in an auto accident and your car is driveable, but there’s ANY glass in your car, do not drive it. Carlos has seen and experienced glass-related injuries from auto accidents. Carlos’ second piece of advice: SLOW DOWN. I think most drivers could benefit from piece of advice #2, and hopefully will not need piece of advice #1.

I’m driving a KIA rental car right now while waiting for the Civic to be repaired. Eoy.

When the adrenaline from the day wore off and I had completed rounds with the insurance company, the auto body shop, the rental car agency and my boss, I was terribly scared. Accidents are injuries; I now understand why people fear driving and some never return to it after they’re involved in an accident. Accidents are intimate. We forget how close we are to other people who are driving – we pretend that the few feet of space and the few inches of sheet metal represents worlds of distance and safety. I begin to loathe SUV and Hummer drivers even more – what makes them think their lives are more important than mine because I drive a small, fuel-efficient vehicle instead of a giant, predatory, gas guzzler? Does this mean I value my life less?

I should pay more attention when I drive, even though paying more attention would not have prevented this accident. It may prevent others in the future. We all should. I long to walk more and drive less.

There is air conditioning in my rental car along with power steering, power locks, and power windows. But I miss my little Civic and I will be so glad when it gets to come home. In the meantime, care to join me for a walk?