Road Meat, Half Off
The great John Swartzwelder predicts my possible doom.
After a relaxing couple of days with my father and stepmother, the highlight of which was a wedding reception for my cousin Derek and his partner Kevin, who recently wed in Connecticut, I was driving back up to Michigan, listening to Bob and Ray, when BLAMMM.
It sounded like a shotgun blast. Wedged into the right lane by a red semi passing quickly to my left, I slowed and pulled off the road without skidding to a stop. I figured that my front left tire blew out, but it didn't feel flat, and I'd kept control of the car. Still, I had to check. Like an idiot, perhaps played by the younger Jerry Lewis, I got out of the car interstate side, quickly shut the door, and moved to the front fender.
The tire was intact, tight as a drum. As I turned to my left, another semi, this one hauling Wal-Mart crap, zoomed right by, missing me by maybe two feet, maybe less. It was very close. So close that the wind from the truck blew me back over the car's hood and on the ground. While there I saw that the other front tire was solid as well. I got up, went to the back, and those tires were also fine.
So what the fuck was that exploding sound?
Beats me. I drove to the next exit, gassed up, checked the engine, looked under the car, and everything was in perfect order. Perhaps one of the red semi's tires blew out, for later, about a mile down the road, shredded truck tire was strewn across the lanes. Or maybe some nut was shooting at cars from the embankment. Far fetched, I know, but this is Indiana we're talking about. Whatever the cause, my car ran smoothly, and it was an uneventful drive back to Ann Arbor.
I bring all this up because I wonder what would've happened had that Wal-Mart semi clipped me. Broken arm, shoulder, and sternum certainly. Shattered jaw and missing teeth most likely. And that's the optimistic version. In reality, had that truck, going at least 70 mph, caught any part of me, yours truly would have been splattered all over the highway, human road kill for the crows to feast on until EMS or the state police shoveled up my remains and placed them in plastic bags.
Imagine if I was shooting a video while this happened. The YouTube hits would be phenomenal, assuming the camera survived and someone had the foresight to upload the snuff footage. What an exit that would be!
I don't mean to joke about being hit by a semi, regardless of how happy that would make many people. Knowing my luck, Madonna would die about an hour later, diminishing whatever post mortem attention I'd receive. At least I'd have the crows. Friends to the end.