While pulling out of a Taco Bell (most likely the food that God eats when he dines out) I was almost rear ended by an unnecerssarily large SUV. Now, despite sounding vaguely erotic, it was quite frightening (which also seems vaguely erotic).
I can explain my thought process right before my impending demise would happen. It went something like this: Holy shit I’m going to die. Though, in actuality it went more like this: Holshdie, which may or may not be a Yiddish word.
After barely being able to pull over to the shoulder and being able to live for one more day my thoughts changed from the jibbersih I uttered in my mind and turned into what I had been listening to right before what I was sure would be the impact that would have ended it all for me. It was the song Get Lonely from the album of the same name from the incredibly band/man The Mountain Goats. Oddly enough, I would have been completely ok if this was the last noise my ears heard before the sound of bending steel and shattering glass. It’s a calming song that is pretty melancholy, but I kind of believe that getting into a terrible car wreck should be a somber experience.
The other thing that struck me about this experience is that my possible end of being on this world had no prolific revelation about it. I didn’t have a moment of impact upon impact. I didn’t see my life flash before my eyes (which is probably for the better since I’ve lived a pretty dumb life). I had no deep thoughts regarding how simple it is to simply leave this planet. To have this great adventure of life taken from you, without reason and without you having any say in the matter.
In fact, I was so unaffected by this ordeal that I came home and proceeded to read the news paper and eat the meal that I almost never got the chance to eat. The meal was very good, but the food being delicious had nothing to do with me almost dying. It just happened to be good food that was prepared in a delicious way.
I don’t know if this makes me odd. If another person would alter their life because of escaping their doom. Me? I really doubt I’ll change anything I do. Nothing good anyway. In fact I think I’ll take up smoking again. Maybe that’s the meaning of all of this. That I should pick up my habit again of smoking Virginia Slims while sipping Arbor Mist Sangria Zinfandel.