a little death'll do ya

chances are, i drive more than you do.

in may of 2007 i bought a toyota yaris with 86 test miles on it. as of today it had 24,000 miles. part of me wants to mount a video camera on my dashboard, that you may see what i see (pa-rump-pa-pum-pum).

one of my first blogs was about an accident that occurred right in front of me; thieves stealing a car in downtown los angeles ran a red light around 3am and plowed into the car ahead of me, completely incapacitating it, but fortunately sparing the driver any injury.

last summer, i was a hundred or so yards behind a pickup truck hauling a collapsible camper, which i saw bounce. i took my foot off the gas and began coasting to expand the distance between us as the camper jumped several times and finally hopped off its housing, flying free. sadly, the car that had begun to pass it was not watching, and as the camper slid free it tagged the car's rear quarter-panel, spinning it and actually shooting it sideways across the highway and into the ditch. i ran to the car while phoning the highway patrol to find a woman sitting next to a shattered driver's side window, dazed, but unharmed.

this winter has been irritating as all fuck; mother nature has chosen every travel day i have to whip something up into a fury. on days i don’t need to get anywhere, the sun comes out, skies are blue and all is well in the world. but the instant i need to drive, the winter storm warnings arrive and travel advisories arise aplenty.

twice already this year, lyds has saved my car, as well as my bank account. the first time, iowa was getting slammed by over a foot of snow and all state highways were marked red on the road conditions map, as in "travel not advised." sadly, booking agents are a fickle bunch of fucks; if you cancel a gig for any reason, you're blacklisted instantaneously. so, as i had to go southeast, and the most direct route was due east, then south, i readied myself for the inevitable hell-drive.

lyds, thankfully, is whip-smart. she jumped on her computer, opened three windows and started comparing highway notifications, weather patterns and google maps in three states. she determined that were i to head due south, then cut east--though that route would add 40 miles to my trip--i'd leave the blizzard much, much sooner and end up on clear pavement quickly.

i was only able to go about 25mph on the highway, following tracks as best i could in white out conditions, but damn if lydia wasn't right: by the time i got to the missouri border, the skies cleared, and i was cruising along at a decent pace.

when i returned home two days later, i took the more direct route, the one lyds had determined to be impassible upon my departure. in the fifty-odd miles between iowa city and bettendorf, i passed no less than 50 vehicles strewn along the sides of the highway in various degrees of disarray and damage. there is an odd beauty in the aftermath of violence; you begin to wonder what the story is behind the conclusion you're seeing. an upside down 18-wheeler, its cab flipped back upon its load leaves you imagining how the event unfolded. four tires poking through snow hinting at an upside down car buried beneath has you hoping everyone crawled out safely. sadly, when metal meets man, man will usually lose. driving home from my shows, i was beyond happy i had not taken the shortest path when leaving; there was too much carnage for me to have escaped unharmed.

the second time lyds offered up protective care was sunday, three days ago as of my writing this. on that day, the day of our lord, she told me that yet another winter storm warning had been issued for our lovely midwestern state, and it was to start monday, the day i was supposed to be heading home from minneapolis. fuck you very much, mama nature.

hoping to stay ahead of the weather, i got up at 6am monday morn and started along my merry way. just across the iowa border, i pulled off to piddle at a rest stop, then got back in the car and called lyds to ask what the internet was saying about the storm and roads; i had been driving in rain, but it had just turned to sleet.

as we spoke, i felt the sleet turning to ice, and began to slow down; the truck-driver ahead of me should have done the same.

i didn't mean to scare lyds, but i began to giggle, then shout--"holy shit! holy shit!"--then howl with excited laughter. naturally, she thought something was wrong, or that i was getting into an accident, but that was far from the truth.

what happened was this: the 18-wheeler slammed on his brakes, and his trailer began to sway, then fish-tailed something fierce. after a few seconds of swinging back and forth across two lanes of highway, the rig ditched into the median, its back end whipping a sharp 180-degree jack-knife swath across the pavement before coming to a collapsed rest in the snow.

it was incredible, and as i slowly shuffled forward i saw what had caused the truck driver to lock 'em up: partially blocking the right hand lane was a highway patrol car, just arrived in response to an accident. a good nine cars were scattered in the ditch, and most of those had the drivers still sitting in them, confused.

the highway patrol was parked as he was in order to shield a car in front of his, one resting delicately across the shoulder and part of the highway and demolished hood to trunk on the driver's side. there are some moments when you see a situation and regardless of back-story, you know what the epilogue will be. staring at the crescent moon of a car, the entire driver's side concaved by the blunt force of direct impact and the driver's side door pushed in so far it was pressed against the passenger seat, "no one is walking away from that" is the sobering thought that crossed my mind.

sadly, no one did.

in her nightly internet news round up, lyds came across the story of a deadly auto accident on I-35 south, one that occurred shortly after 8am that morning.

sometimes i wish i could edit my own eyesight for content.