There is something a little unsettling about hearing of the summertime multiple-fatality car crashes that happen everywhere on Earth the automobile has been introduced to. Canadians expect to die in a wintertime car crash. Our casual attitude toward Sudden Death on the ice is part of what it is to be a Canadian. And we know there is a good chance that when it happens we are going to be hammered. We are James Dean wearing a toque.
In the summertime you just know those dead people in the car that just crashed were out having fun. On their way to the hot fishing hole or their dope dealer. That is a bad time to die suddenly.
On my way home from the track today I watched a motorcyclist pulling the same daredevil shit I used to pull as we crossed a bridge. "Jesus Fuck," I told myself, "are you lucky to be alive."