Alright, so what’s the deal.
I’ve recently become aware that I am no longer wanted on the road. It began last week when a very good tire of mine blew out, leaving several of my friends and I sudo-stranded in the borough of Queens. One would assume, by the law of the road, that I might be afforded, a week? A few days? of road bound complacency. Not so, say the road gremlins, especially because the potentially catastrophic highway failure of a tire went over with little consequences to either my vehicle or the evening’s events. It was no later than Wednesday that a black Honda Fit (it’s image now emblazoned upon my memory) decided to pull an absolute dead stop in front of me on the highway, then U-turn illegally towards the opposite direction. If I weren’t distanced the prescribed few car lengths behind Mr. Fit, and for today’s sponsor, Brembo Brakes, the results would have been very different. But what’s two close calls in a few day’s driving, especially when I travel an average of 400 miles a week? Exhibit C, Wednesday night, my vehicle is charged by none other than Bambi. Traveling in what can only be described as the deer lane, a fawn galloped toward my car in the dead of night from the opposite direction, in the opposite lane. Should he/she have decided to reroute their gallop and plow into the side of my car, as the deer stereotypes would suggest they are akin to do, it would have been out of my control.
To top these encounters in an otherwise whiny list, I call to your attention now Thursday night. Just as I sank into the afore mentioned driving complacency, my lower right hand view jolted me to see what I can only assume was a raccoon or groundhog crossing the highway, mere INCHES away from being ran over. Slamming on my brakes from that encounter lessened the amount it would require to avoid the moronic Toyota driver who crossed in front of me, ignorant of the way a traffic circle functions. The deal? What is it? I can reach only one conclusion, and that is that I am Brendan Frasier, and my life is the events of whatever this film is:
(sidepoint: I probably know less about this film then you do. Without reading any descriptions, here’s my guess at the plot: Rather than being terrorized by grown men in green and blue wolf suits, as one could possibly assume, Brendan here is PROBABLY a heartless businessman of some sort. Naturally, some form of his businessmanship brings him to eradicate some section of natural habitat, and the remainder of the film involve him being mauled by bears. Throw in a few good lessons for kids, like how great being mauled by bears is, and you’ve got your comedy gold. Or, more appropriately, a comedy aluminum can.)
You know when your parents wouldn’t let you go somewhere, and they always said “I trust YOU, it’s the other people I don’t trust”? Well, just as my parents didn’t have any trust in those public school systems, never forget that animals on the road (here jokingly referring to other drivers) and animals on the road are not to be trusted. Does everyone else experience this frequency of hazards? Or does my tendency to be involved in such encounters make me a candidate for whiny weekly updates on my frequent escapes from death? I’m not a perfect driver but I take pride in being a GOOD driver. But that matters little if you allow such confidence to blind you of the malicious intentions of small mammals.
