Thought of the Day: Weird

After my son was playfully screaming at me like a character off of Street Fighter II, I told no one in particular (because it was just the two of us), "Everything I touch goes weird."

Spring is in the Air Fragments

Spring Break was nice. It felt like a long break. That's rare.

Last week I went to the grocery store around 10 PM. As I headed back to my car with the cart, as with most times, I got a running start and began riding the cart back to my car. The day I stop doing that, I will know I will be officially, an old man.

We went out of town to visit my aunt and went to a local restaurant and I saw some of the best bathroom graffiti I have ever seen. Scrawled below a "KKK" (which was already marked out) was "Took My Baby Away". That made me smile. If you don't know what that's referencing, look it up.

Also, this whole documentary about the Ramones is up on Youtube. Great movie, check it out if you have the inclination.

I am tired of FB again. I am tired of the fear of chemicals in food. I mean, we should be careful, yada yada, yada but the fear mongering is out of control with some of my friends.

The Best and Worst Sesame Street Characters

The Best

1) Ernie 2) Big Bird 3) Oscar  4) Slimey the Worm (totally underutilized now) 5) TIE: Bert & Grover

The Worst

1) Elmo 2) Abbey Cadabe 3) Murray 4) The Teddy Bear One  - all of them are annoying. It's sad that most of  the new characters they create are terrible and all have grating voices that make me want to smash things. They are one-dimensional and boring.  Jim Henson, you are missed!!

Great Pic - what's crazy is the guy died at 53. When I was a kid, I knew he died unexpectedly and that it was sad but I was like, "he's an old man". But Crap, that's just around the bend for me.  Also, is that a Jim Henson muppet to the left of Henson himself? Does Henson do Henson's voice? If so, does he just talk normal or did he create a "special Muppet" voice for the Muppet of himself?

Books Read Thus Far in 2014

Come As You Are (Nirvana book) by Azerrad  (re-read) - a necessity for Nirvana fans and so well done. I hadn't read it all the way through since college. Cobain seems more child-like and immature to me now, but that's because he was basically a kid and now I'm an old man. It got me on a Nirvana listening kick again and it always makes me sad thinking what Kurt could have done with this life and (most importantly) how sad  that his daughter only knows him through his music, photos, articles and his family's memories of him.

Ready Player One -  Ernest Cline
Wow. Great novel. I hadn't read one of those for fun that wasn't fantasy based in so long. Highly recommend for Gen-X'ers and people who love video games. You will finish this in less than a week if you have a pulse. 

Narina Books - The Boy and His Horse and now on Prince Caspian (re-reads) - good stories but CS Lewis is a racist and a xenophobe. I try to give people the benefit of the doubt but damn, I won't read the Boy and his Horse to my kids.


Currently reading: Pascal's Pensees (about 3/4 finished) and Flannery O Connor's complete short stories (just a few stories read).

Selections from various comic books, sections from The Case for God (Armstrong) (got it free but very disappointed in it thus far) and Barclay's commentary on Mark (always solid).

I had jury duty the other day and it was quite wonderful. Sat there and graded for an hour or two, listened to music, sketched some ideas for a project, hung out, got a two hour lunch and walked downtown most of the time on a beautiful day. Simply wonderful. Got back, sat down for another hour and a half and went home. I wish I had one day like this every week.

That's all for now, hang loose, be cool and most of all, never let 'em see ya sweat.

Quote of the Day: A Thinking Reed

"Man is but a reed, the most feeble thing in nature, but he is a thinking reed. The entire universe need not arm itself to crush him. A vapor, a drop of water suffices to kill him. But, if the universe were to crush him, man would still be more noble than that which killed him, because he knows that he dies and the advantage which the universe has over him, the universe knows nothing of this.
All our dignity then, consists in thought. By it we must elevate ourselves, and not by space and time which we cannot fill. Let us endavour then, to think well; this is the principle of morality."

--Pascal Pensees 347

Wrecked Fragments

In September of 2001, I was in a bad car accident. Here are the fragments.

I was 24 and starting my second year of graduate school. It was the weekend before 9/11 and my friend JJ and I were planning on visiting our friend Eric, who lived in Abilene. Sometime after 5:00 PM, we left town and made our way up towards what I like to call the "middle of no where".

Our trip before the accident was already eventful. I had to stop about an hour and a half out of town because I had diarrhea.  We drove through a small town but it wasn't an issue of simply finding a gas station.  You see I have a thing for clean restrooms, so I refused to go to just any gas station. This is one of those "antique towns" so there were no obvious fast food joints either - I found a nice-looking BBQ/Americana place. I think the hostess asked me how many would be seated with me but I can't remember if I even answered at that point - my bowels were more or less guiding my brain at that time. All this is to say if I hadn't had this bout of diarrhea, the accident would have never happened.

It's disconcerting to think our little lives revolve around inane chance events. 

We were between Brady and Mason when the accident occurred. It must have been a little after 7:00 PM and the sun was just peeking out from the horizon. It was one of those beautiful late summer/ early autumn sunsets when the sky is pink, purple and blue.  We were listening to Weezer's Green Album, as I was trying to convince my friend it was pretty okay. We were cruising right at the speed limit of 70 mph and we were about half-way to Abilene.

Then it happened.

There were two deer on the side of the highway. I had time to see them and think "no". They ran right in front of my 2000 green Ford Frontier. I knew intellectually I wasn't supposed to try to dodge them at that distance and at our speed but that's just how I reacted in the milliseconds I had.


I swerved to my left but the deer were already there, my truck hit the back end of one of them and I yanked the steering wheel to the right, trying to get back to the other side of the road. Of course, this was a text-book case of "over-correcting". Don't try it at home, folks.

Here's where it gets interesting. Everything slowed down - every second felt like an additional 10 seconds. I know the memory can be a odd thing to pin down, but I remember very clearly and happening very slowly. After over-correcting, the truck seemed to hang on the driver's side two wheels.  In this millisecond, my brain concocted a favorable outcome, a la An Occurrence at Owl Creek Bridge.  I remember thinking, "We're gonna make it". We would land back on all four wheels and sure, I'd have a pretty damaged front-end, but we would be back on our way to Abilene in no time. No problem, right?

Instead, the truck continued with it's momentum and we slammed down onto the road towards our journey upside-down and right-side up again. And again, and again.  It felt earth-shattering. This was easily the loudest noise I had ever heard before or since. At one point I remember opening my eyes and seeing the world turn upside-down and thinking, "When is this going to end?" It felt like this was taking entirely too long.

We finally settled about 10 feet off the road, we must have flipped at least 5-6 times. Thankfully, this was central Texas and there weren't many trees around.  We were also blessed enough to land right-side up. Weezer was still playing on the trusty stereo ("Simple Pages" for those scoring at home). My first action was to turn the music off.  JJ later told me he asked me if I was okay about 2-3 times before I responded but I don't remember that at all. 

As I looked around I couldn't fathom how or why my left arm was bleeding profusely. I looked down and I just saw red - red meat. Blood was everywhere and I remember thinking that this could be very, very bad. We were in the middle of no-where and my left wrist and arm was bleeding more blood than I had ever seen in real life.

JJ was basically unscathed - he had one small scratch on his arm. Thus I deemed him "Unbreakable" after the accident. If you haven't seen the movie (of the same name) then you won't get it.

Totally underrated movie that I think was unfairly panned at the time of its release.  Unbreakable has a lower score on IMDB than The Avengers. I am sorry, The Avengers sucked. I  guess it was a "fun" movie (with lots of explosions and aliens)  but the more I think about it, the more it sucked. Search your heart, you will know it's true. Unbreakable gives you something to think about. I think people felt the ending was too much of a rip-off on The Sixth Sense (and this was the very next film after its release). Although the ending was a surprise, it remains one of my favorites because of the themes of identity and purpose. It helps that it's about comic books too. Oh and it's my favorite Samuel L. Jackson flick - the more restrained he is, the better (although neutered in Star Wars was like watching a Michael Jordan play minor league baseball).  

My arm did hurt but it wasn't all that bad - I was more worried than anything else.  My door was sealed shut but JJ could get out of his side. It was decided he would call 911 and our respective families with my old-school cell phone. I had never wanted one of the new-fangled devices but my Mom insisted on giving one to me. I think I had used it all of 10 times in my life at that point. I never used the thing but I did take it with me on trips out of town. It had the alarm-clock-like numbers on it! I was happy it was working this far out in Podunk world. 

At this point, things get hazy. After the 911 call and the obligatory phone call to our families, JJ began to gather our belongings - apparently, all of our bags and clothing had been strewn out across the highway.

Someone had pulled over to help us and soon a man was visiting with me at the driver's side window. This stranger was going to help me keep myself together.
I really wanted to get out of the car but glass was everywhere and the stranger told me to stay put.

I knew I was going into shock. It was an entirely odd experience - having no control of your body but knowing exactly what is happening. Suddenly, the wind began to blow and that late summer night seemed downright cold.  My teeth began to chatter. I knew I was losing blood from my arm so I pressed it as tight as I could onto my leg. I lifted it off my shorts to examine it but it just scared me so I looked away. The stranger had brought me a white sheet from his car to cover me.

The stranger asked me questions about my life, my career goals, etc. I remember answering him slowly. My field of vision keep getting smaller and smaller. The blackness was closing in. I told the stranger that I couldn't see and he told me to keep talking. So, I did. In the back of my head I was worried. The thought occurred to me that I could die right here, but that thought was not as frightening as you might think.

My life didn't flash before my eyes nor did I reflect on God, the afterlife, heaven or hell. I didn't think about my regrets in life or the things I wanted out of my future life. Most of what I remember thinking was simply, "I want to live".  This will to live was a powerful feeling and like the shock I was experiencing, it also felt uncontrollable. This wasn't a choice, but instinct. Something deep inside of me was urging me to fight. 



Ok, here's the weird part. At some point, a woman started taking pictures of the whole thing. I have no idea who she was. She told JJ she would sent pictures to his home address.  Check out the dude in the white shirt on the left. I have no idea who this guy was. He was not (to my recollection) the stranger who spoke with me. You could say he was my guardian angel, and if so, he looks very, very disappointed in me.

I am comforted by the fact that in these moments I didn't suffer great pain or fear. Shock comes in and helps blunt most of the pain and at the same time, maybe it keeps fear at bay. I also understand how the body will just give out with too much trauma - ending all the pain all together. I obviously can't speak for anyone but myself, but it's a nice thought knowing many people I had assumed had painful deaths, could have actually experienced less pain and fear than I had previously imagined.


Eventually, the ambulance and fire department arrived. After a few questions, I told them, I was fine to climb out of the window (not true, but ya know). I heard them talking amongst themselves, someone mentioned "the jaws of life". All I knew was that meant more waiting. One of the firefighters wrapped a huge NFL Cowboys blanket over me to keep me warm. I was finally able to see a little better. They were under the blanket with me as well, telling me what was happening, as the machine was ripping the roof off the truck cab. I started to get warmer and actually really hot. I told the firefighter I was hot but he said that was a good thing.  Then I heard the machine cutting the roof off the truck. I might have cracked a few jokes to the firefighter but I can't be sure.
 

This is nice one as you can see the extent of the damage of the roof. Hard to believe we weren't injured any worse. 



Here they are pulling me out of the car.

  

Cut that roof off like sardine. Also love the antenna - it's got it's groove on.

So, they finally loaded me into the ambulance. This was quite a surreal experience. One of the most over-used shot in film is the "Victim's POV looking up at EMT/doctors/nurses" camera angle and here I was, experiencing that particular point of view. At this point I realize someone is taking pictures, so I give them the classic/cliché "thumbs up". 

 I loved that shirt. RIP

I may have been woozy but I remember the medic in the ambulance being cute. As my left leg was drenched in blood, she attempted to cut my shorts off to ensure I wasn't injured elsewhere on my body. I was starting to feel a little embarrassed by the whole thing. I knew I shouldn't have tried to dodge the deer and I felt like an idiot and now a cute medic wanted to cut my pants off. Luckily, she believed me when I told her my legs were just fine - so my bloody shorts remained on.

Once in the hospital, I waited in the emergency room by myself for what felt like forever. I just sat there with my arm bleeding into a tray. It was a lonely experience. By now, my injuries were beginning to hurt and I was ready for some kind of treatment. It turns out during our flipping, my arm went flying out the window and scraped the road. Again, I was fortunate my arm wasn't hurt any worse.

Finally, someone arrived and I began getting treatment on my arm. The nurses picked the tiny pieces asphalt that had been embedded into my arm, piece by torturous, piece. It was excruciating. I am man enough to tell you it was worst pain I have ever felt and I responded like a wee laddie. I think they gave me some kind of pain-killer but it must have been a half of aspirin. I've had chunks of my flesh torn out by doctors, I've had mouth surgery before, so I know stuff works but whatever they gave me just wasn't cutting it.  I kept telling myself that it would eventually end, and I would have a story to tell one day.

At the junkyard the next day. It was quite a sight to see. Also, a rare photo of myself and my Dad (at least on the Hopeful Fragment). On the way home we stopped at a mom and pop hamburger restaurant and I swear it was the best hamburger I ever had.

Sometime after midnight, my parents finally arrived.  It turned out JJ couldn't get a hold of my parents so he left a message on my parent's home phone answering machine. Later, my Mom told me my Dad went a little crazy when he heard the message because JJ did not make it clear I was alive and kicking and was going to be "ok".   I have never talked about with him because we are men and we don't talk about our feelings. We talk about sports and my kids.  

All that said, I've been blabbing too long.  I was on my road to recovery. I had fractured my wrist, got a whole bunch of stitches and a had a huge gash of road rash (treated like a 3rd degree burn). I got used to doing everything with one hand. It sucked, but ya know, I was glad I wasn't dead. 

When people would ask, I would often reply that I was attacked by a pit bull. I have scar tissue that is essentially a tattoo of the asphalt (as it's darkened black like the road).  I tell people it's the only tattoo I'll ever get.



Flashback: MLK Day 2012

We purchased a new PC around three years ago and all the pressure to delete photos on the basis of quality, redundancy, etc. faded.

About 8 months ago we stopped even organizing by month. Which was just a huge mess.

So, I am "working" about a 1-3 months each night, I turn the photos the right away, organize and delete between 100-200 photos a night. I have at least two more years to really go through. It's pretty daunting, but it makes me feel good. It feeds my little OCD monster inside.

I am finally in 2012 and I found this gem from the MLK walk in 2012. I think it's a pretty neat dream too.

Thought of the Day

Don't mistake differences for enmity, but if you do, GO ALL IN.

Art Post: My Little Pony

We just celebrated C's 8th birthday last night and I went to work on a poster for the door. C loves My Little Pony (MLP, ya know).  Cliche Alert: WE CAN'T BELIEVE OUR BABY IS ALMOST 8 (we have few days of 7 yet!!)  It may be the last time she has a "character" birthday party, which makes me a little sad. In the meantime, she has grown into a smart, empathetic, sweet, sensitive and funny 2nd grader. I couldn't be more proud of her.

There are worst things than MLP to be into, and it's a halfway enjoyable show.  My "art" has dwindled down to projects for my kids, drawing Sesame Street characters for my son to keep him busy and doodling on occasion at work. I nailed a picture of the "the Count" about two weeks ago for H and felt like a KING.  Oh yeah, it's on the fridge (seriously). I still love drawing - it's just now I'm more like an artist for hire for my kids (they pay me in hugs).  Here are the results from the party: 

Don't call me a "Brony" but that's Twlight and Spike. Pencil, Map colors & Sharpie. I wanted to use paint but really didn't have time for it. C loves it and now has it hanging on her wall. That's the biggest compliment!