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."
2 comments:
You are lucky to be alive, as am I. Still good to be reminded.
"James Dean wearing a toque."
Scary. Statistically and supporting imagery.
Like most people of a certain age, I suppose, I can safely say I've come close to a bad end on the roads. Since I have not driven now in about twenty years, I can also say most of these close calls occurred in the age bracket conforming to government issued statistics.
After my son was born, and I was introduced to the unexpected perils of navigating crossings with a baby buggy, I have also been forced to chase down belligerent drivers suddenly cowed by red stop lights, and on one memorable occasion I was very close to pulling a truck driver out of his cabin when he blatantly pulled a wrong turn and almost clipped the two of us.
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