They say you can never go Home...

Soldiers of Sparta were allowed to return home after lost battles, only if carried dead upon their shields. I'm convinced this is a more practical and time-saving way to go about it.

Tuesday, February 15, 2005

Rite of Passage?

I’ve been told that, living in this town, one will at one time or another experience a nasty car wreck. This is why the insurance premiums are so outrageously high. The traffic in this city is atrocious. It's also Tourist Season, which means the road conditions are especially snarled.

I was in a four-car accident today, coming home from my second day of work. Everyone, including me, is okay. I’m just a little sore in the back.

I thought four cars was pretty significant; however others in my swim class have me beat—they sustained six plus car pileups, just a few weeks ago.

I’m certainly no claims adjustor, but I would surmise my Volvo is only a few thousand shy of being totaled, which means, of course, the car will never be the same, regardless of the quality of the bodywork. For some reason I am terrifically bummed out, and if I were able to cry, I might.

Somehow this car has seemed like the one constant in my life that has not let me down; has followed me wherever I’ve gone and carted me away from everything I’ve wanted to get away from. People (drivers) are seemingly determined to not let that happen, as I have been backed into, dumped off of car carriers, and today’s coup de grace: plowed into at high speeds while at a dead stop in typical congestion.

I think it's asinine to get this worked up over a stupid car, but there is some symbolism here that my mind is determined to recognize and brood over.

I also think that it’s now pretty ridiculous that I’ve dumped so much money into the thing for upkeep, thinking that this is the car I would commit to after years of being a notoriously philandering car owner. I’m not proud to admit it, but I’ve had seven cars in my young life thus far; four of them new. This car was the one I wanted to settle down with, and retire from a life of monthly car payments. And now, we'll spend the rest of our bland existence together, although she'll have a nasty limp, so to speak.

My driver's seat is laying at an odd pitch, because the WHIPS system has been activated, which is Volvo’s answer to lessening the chances of whiplash injuries. I’m not certain whether this means I’ll need a new seat too. (Can the thing be reset? Is this just some sort of refractory period for the seat, after which the seat will return to its upright position?)

Emotions aside however, this is why people buy Volvos, no? To protect themselves from the philistines that populate the roadways. I always thought that this was accomplished by building these things like tanks; however, looking at the two Fords behind me that were responsible for pushing me into an Accord, I would say that the thought process has changed ironically. Now, it's all crumple zones and the like.