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My Car Accident Today

My Car Accident Today

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Ok, I’m an idiot.

I left work early today because I still had a pounding headache. At about 12:30, I was backed up in a line of traffic, at a full stop, for a red light across a busy intersection.

To my right was a scruffy-looking guy that looked to be the right age to be holding a sign saying “Homeless Vietnam Vet.”

(You may start the bleeding-heart liberal jokes at any time.)

I rolled down the passenger-side window, and waved a couple bucks. As he took them from my hand, my foot slipped off the brake.

I’m driving an older Geo Prism. My brother donated it to charity – me. The idle is set high.

When my foot slipped off the brake, I immediately ran into the white Ford Expedition in front of me. I didn’t even have a moment to process. The guy looked at me pityingly and said “oh, no…”.

If it had been a different sort of vehicle, it wouldn’t have been a big deal. Unfortunately, that truck was big and so high off the ground that its back bumper slid into my hood.

The hood buckled in half. The driver’s side lights broke, the passenger side door won’t open, the engine fan was tilted back, and the edge of the hood looks like it just touched the radiator.

The driver of the truck – a nice woman who is going to study nursing at Emory – pulled into the fast-food parking lot on the other side of the intersection. I followed.

We drove by two policemen in the parking lot, and they came over to talk with us. They said that they were on their way to a robbery. They advised us – with the understanding that they “weren’t here” – that we should call 911, state that it was a non-emergency call, and file the report with the officer on duty. That way, it would have a case number and would go to our insurance.

So then they went back to the patrol car for twenty minutes and ate their chicken sandwiches. (sigh)

We called, but there was no officer on duty. They said they would have to send someone out.

We waited an hour, then she left. She gave me all of her information (and called me later too to ask if I was all right).

After another half hour, a patrolman arrived. He asked why I had called, since there were no injuries and no dispute about fault. I told him what happened. He apologized for the “unprofessional behavior” and said that if he filed a case report he would have to issue me a ticket. He was very nice and advised me just to call the insurance company and do it that way. He also escorted me part of the way home to make sure that the engine wouldn’t overheat.

I made it home, but I couldn’t find the insurance information. Now I have to wait until my hubby gets back from teaching to call. I did talk to the woman I hit. There was no damage to her vehicle.

I feel like a total fool, but what worries me is the comparison between the value of the car and what this might cost to fix. I never take this car on the highway anyway. Obviously now I know it’s as though it were made of tissue paper, and I would be toast in a real accident. But I always knew it was really an about-town sort of car anyway.

If they decide to total the car, I will be left without any car at all. I was a prisoner to this house and my workplace for three years. I couldn’t take that again. I hope it all works out.

To take up what I am sure is a totally outdated phrase, I’m really bummed out.

Saw George Carlin

Saw George Carlin

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We went to see George Carlin at the Fox Theater last night.

I wore black to honor his traditional uniform.

It was a good time, but we noticed that his new rants are less specific. They probably will not “date” as quickly as the last one we saw.

At 70, he was still great, but there was nothing really… masterful. His humor was on the gritty and sometimes gross side, but much of what I thought could have been the most interesting bits were delivered straight. He has always been a court jester, but he’s tipped into roughshod truth-telling.

He told three vile jokes – with plenty of warning. I had heard one of them before. The most disgusting of them was actually the funniest – it was a gift to divorced dads, and I couldn’t possibly publish it here (yikes). It was misogynistic and horrible, but it was still funny.

The refrain of the show was – “it’s bullshit, and it’s not good for you.”

He had a great guy as the warm-up – not really a comedian, although his asides were hilarious, but a very talented guitarist and singer. I wish I could remember his name. Something like David Travis? The mike was turned up way too high, and at some point he realized it. He sang one song a capella (“Acapulco”) way away from the microphone – what a lovely voice!

We lucked into a free parking space a block away – on the street – on a Saturday night – in Atlanta. Unbelievable.

A lot of the people there were very drunk.

It was a fun night out.

Ripping

Ripping

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Our wealthy neighbors are developing some of their acres of property. The plans seemed ok – three houses instead of 20.

We thought there would be a buffer zone, since the first house is back a bit, and away from ours. We live in at the edge of a forest, full of huge southern oaks and pines and some azaleas and really way too much poison oak.

Well, the bulldozers came in. From the driveway/road back about 15 feet or so, and extending to the property line, everything is gone. I saw – and heard – and felt – a huge tree go down.

My neighbor on the other side had come out to see, too. We looked at each other. So… my hubby joined us and all three went to try to talk to them to see what was going on, if plans had changed or what.

Well, it turns out that this massive destruction was all stipulated by the county because they’ll have to put in a road big enough for a firetruck to enter – everything has to be cleared back from the driveway for the road construction.

The view is a lot different now. Sigh.

Last night and today there was a lot of activity in our back yard. I’ve seen a raccoon, an opossum, three times more chipmunks and squirrels, and a lot more birds of all kinds. They were racing around looking agitated. Can’t say I blame them. I put out some food.

We got a visit from the (sacred) falcon that visits from time to time; usually he roosts and looks at us. Sometimes he meets another. This time he flew from tree to tree. In a way, it was great to see his beautiful caramel and charcoal wings, but again – he seemed agitated, restless.

What I didn’t hear were the mated owls. I hope they weren’t scared off. I think there might have been a rabbit den over there, too.

I’m a little nervous about the upcoming dynamiting that is planned. It’s supposed to be very exact, with minimal damage. I guess I’ll find out if there are any sinkholes on our property…

Scored Tori Amos Tickets

Scored Tori Amos Tickets

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Tickets went on sale about an hour ago. Thirty minutes ago I found out. Twenty minutes ago I got two tickets for the November 14th Atlanta performance at the Fox Theater.

I’ve seen Tori Amos in concert a few times before. The Fox is my favorite venue in Atlanta. It’s not too big, it’s nicely designed, the sound is good, and there are few bad seats in the house. I like Chastain because it’s outside, but for the best sound, the Fox is the place. There is also a sense of intimacy that’s hard to beat. I love the whole set-up. I’ve seen all sorts of plays and concerts and comedy and movies at the Fox over the years – and I’ve never had a bad time.

I’ve got nice seats – Right center orchestra. Woo-hoo!

I hope that she sings some of my favorite songs in concert: Sweet the Sting, Cornflake Girl, God, Parasol, General Joy, Mother Revolution, The Beekeeper, Happy Phantom, Snow Cherries from France, Hey Jupiter, Mr. Zebra, Muhammad My Friend, Crucify, Real Men, Father Lucifer, Silent all these Years, Leather, Precious Things, Icicle, Girl, Sleeps with Butterflies, Space Dog, Winter, China, Little Earthquakes, Sweet Dreams, Baker Baker, The Wrong Band, Past the Mission, and The Power of Orange Knickers.

I’ve got some reservations about Tori’s latest creative experiment. I like the splitting, creating separate and definable aspects of the self – playing with a kind of multiple-personality channel switcher. I think most people have several facets of themselves that could they could consciously split off like that.

I’m just not sure I really like where it’s all going. The personalities are not terribly attractive to me – and I’m a fan. Some of the aspects that I love about her most are not reflected in the choices she has made with the visual appearance of each character. I’m not sure she’s sliced up the reality so much as constructed new aliases. I think that she is more interesting than these personae suggest.

It’s a weird leap from the flavors of The Beekeeper to American Doll Posse. I’ve got the new CD, but I haven’t really absorbed many of the songs yet (basically, that means I don’t know any of them well enough to sing).

My faves so far are Secret Spell, Big Wheel (MILF? -hmm), Beauty of Speed and the microsongs Velvet Revolution and Devils and Gods.

I think I’ll eventually like Girl Disappearing, Bouncing off Clouds, Father’s Son, Body and Soul, Dark Side of the Sun, Smokey Joe and Dragon. It usually takes me a least a dozen listens to warm to some of the songs.

There are always a couple that I don’t like at all. For example, I can’t listen to ’97 Bonnie & Clyde from Strange Little Girls – it makes me shake with nausea and dread. I actually can’t listen to it. My reaction is too extreme.

Still, I like a higher percentage of her songs than anyone else (except perhaps Kate Bush).

I’ll be delirious with happiness at this concert. She is one on the short list of artists who helped ground me, kept me singing, gave me a way to navigate, continue, be recharged. When I listen to Tori, I’m hearing someone that resonates with me. When I sing with Tori, I’m more than myself, but also more of myself.

I saw a recent clip of her watching a children’s chorus – she was very touched (to a tear in her eye) to hear her music sung so sweetly, harmoniously. Almost like… I wept, too. I got it, and it confirmed my sense of her.

Now I only have to wait until November…

Stellar Delta Employee

Stellar Delta Employee

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I’ve been holding off on this last post about the trip to New Mexico because I had to locate the name of the fellow who saved our trip back from being something like a rerun of the trip out. Considering the content of the previous post, it should come as no surprise to you that – of course – the United Airlines flight was delayed.

We were there super-early for an early flight.
We wanted to check the monster bags together, and then John would run out and return the car.

Our hearts sank when we were told that not only was the first flight delayed, but because of the first delay we would miss our connecting flight in Denver to come back to Atlanta. And yes, of course all other United flights were already overbooked.

This time, we knew enough to request that they find us a flight on another airline. At first they said that there weren’t any. Then they said they had one – late that night. We took it, and went to stand in line at the Delta desk.

We did have to wait in line for a while at Delta, but hey, we had all day. People were very rude and impatient. A couple of people even tried to cut us in line. However, the Delta people were much more on top of the situation and had triaged the people in line. We waited, yes, but it was nothing like the chaos we had experienced waiting for United.

When we got to the front of the Delta line, we were told that our transfer tickets were no good. Because of the heat, they had a lower cutoff on weight – and therefore on passengers. They couldn’t book us on that flight.

John and I looked at each other, willing each other not to lose it.

Then, someone intervened – a very capable, wonderful guy who started pecking at the keyboard with a resoluteness and determination that was both clearly clear and very comforting. For the first time, I got the feeling that someone cared about how things turned out for us. He looked, and muttered, and got someone on the phone, and pecked away.

After about ten minutes, he informed us that he had places for all three of us, sitting together, on the 9:00 flight (or something like that, I forget the actual time). I thought he meant that night. I was grateful that we’d fly the same day, but the thought of wandering around an airport for another whole day….

But NO! He meant the morning flight. It was a direct flight. It was leaving in an hour! We were actually going to be home earlier than we would have on our original flight!

I made him write down his name.

For the record, then, Delta Airlines employee Tom Claeson in Albuquerque (ABQ) is outstanding!

He is competent and efficient and calm and caring. He should get a performance-based bonus, and I sincerely hope he does. Make a note, Delta PR person!

It was a scramble to make the flight on time. We checked the luggage, and John vamoosed to return the car. He got back rather quickly (luck was with that time), and we headed toward security.

Uh-oh. SSS. Again, Selected for Special Screening. All of us.

This time, it was a good thing. We skipped ahead of the long, snaky line. We took off shoes, saw our bags swabbed and tested in a machine, stepped into both metal detector and air puffer. My camping matches were confiscated – I’d forgotten that they were “strike anywhere.” I was only hoping to get a smoke after the flight. I remembered not to bring a lighter.

We got on the flight – it went perfectly, and again we had an excellent pilot that didn’t scare me on the landing (I’m always a little nervous when the plane lands).

We took the MARTA train back to our nearest station, and I sat on all the bags to keep them from moving around. I think I still have a dent on my hip. We got a taxi without any trouble, and lugged our bags inside. The camping bag went directly to storage.

A week later, we’re still sort of recovering from our vacation. It was wonderful in a lot of ways, but it took a lot more energy than any other vacation that I can remember.