Random Thoughts

Screaming Fuck
I did this to our SUV last night. After driving 25 miles in heavy snow over mostly unplowed roads, and avoiding contact with the hundreds of cars sharing the roads with me, I finally got home, safe and sound, only to back into the garage -- quite literally! The SUV is an '02 model with almost no dings or scratches otherwise, so you can imagine how loudly I was screaming "FUCK!"

So I had to take a sick day off from work so I could get the damn taillight replaced so I don't get pulled over and ticketed. In a world where other people drive with one
headlight missing and the other dangling out of its socket, with red saran wrap stretched over the brake lights, and they seem never to be seen by the cops, I know damn well that if I put this off for one minute, the next time I'm on the road I'll get pulled over.

And of course, there's the damage to the garage. It's minor -- very minor -- but it still means calling a handyman out to fix it, and then paying the guy. I could try to do it myself, but those in the world who have ever seen me use a saw and hammer and nails know that the finished job in my hands could come out looking worse than the original damage!

I should consider myself lucky that it wasn't worse, as it could have been. I could have hit our other car, the "little" car. Or I could have been squashed by a plane sliding onto the roadway outside the perimeter of an airport. Or I could have had a fatal heart attack as the car burst into flames around me, igniting the garage, burning it and the other car and me to cinders and molten metal. So, yeah. I know it could have been worse.

Scary World
This morning, as I walked toward public transportation after dropping my car off at the dealer from whom we bought it to get the taillight replaced (which I have since discovered they can't do until next week!), I happened upon a restaurant and, having had no breakfast, I decided to pop in for a bite. I ordered corned beef hash and eggs, but they didn't measure up. As I sat there, however, I looked out the window and noticed a black man outside on the sidewalk wearing a backpack on his back. It was a large pack, seemingly quite full of whatever. He entered the restaurant and made his way toward the back of the place to a table there, I presume, though he may have headed for the bathroom. No one in the place aside from me, as I am aware, took notice of him. By itself, it was a non-incident. But, taken in the context of today's news headlines, specifically a recent one from the island paradise of Bali, it makes one realize how truly vulnerable we are to the actions of even just one crazed, determined individual. The sort of suicide bombing of the likes of those in Bali and daily in Iraq have not occurred here, but I fear it is just a matter of time. It is enough, it is too much, that attacks the likes of 9/11 DID happen here, but I don't think we've seen the last of terror within our borders.


dassall