CRAWLIN’ FROM THE WRECKAGE: I usually don’t share the daily events of my life on this blog, because they ain’t all that interesting. I prefer to tell you about the book or the article that I’m reading, rather than describe how I’m sitting in my living room doing some reading. But once in a great while, something happens in my life that merits mention.

Last Sunday afternoon, something like that happened. I’d like to tell you that I fell in love with the woman of my dreams or that I found the path to world peace. But I’m afraid that just wasn’t in the cards last Sunday. Nope, instead it was a 20 year old woman behind the wheel of a Mitsubishi sports car and a patch of snow and ice that caused her to crash into my car. Yea, I’ve finally been in a serious car accident. My car was totaled.

And me? Well, I walked away from it. (Little Ms. G also walked away from her skidding Mitsubishi, although she complained of some dizziness.) But now I’m faced with an assortment of big hassles, like buying another car and trying to keep the insurance company from pinning part of the blame on me (thus increasing my rates). And it’s definitely a financial setback; a 6 year old car like mine isn’t worth much in an insurance settlement. Had it lived, it might have worked for another 6 years. (Oh sure, theoretically I could use the settlement and buy an equivalent 6 year old car; but in the real world, there are no equivalents. You buy an old car and you don’t know what you’re getting, other than someone else’s problems. At least with your own junker, you know what to expect.)

But mostly I’m just plain sad about losing the car. I’m one of those guys who gets emotionally involved with his car. To see it just taken away in a split second like that is rather traumatic.

How was it, you ask, i.e. the moment of impact? Well, actually it wasn’t all that bad. It wasn’t any worse than being yelled at by your boss. At first I really didn’t think that all that much damage had been done. But the next day, when I went to clean the car out at the towing place, I saw what really happened. Glass was broken, metal was twisted, wires and switch boxes were hanging out of the hood, and the front end was just totally mashed in. I could hardly believe it. And then I had a thought . . . . it looked as though my car had died so that I could live. It absorbed the energy of the impact so that I could walk away with nothing much more than a bruised knee. And that made me feel even sadder.

Another Sunday memory: after the cop came and made out his report, little Ms. G got out her cell phone and called up her parents, who came to get her in their SUV. The best I could do was to convince the cop to give me a ride to the town border (although in the end, he took me to within a few blocks of my apartment). Yea, being in your 50’s means no more mommy and daddy to call when you screw up. You’re on your own buddy, out in the cold (and it was quite cold that day, in the mid-20s).

Oh well. At least I was a gentleman. I didn’t yell at little Ms. G or threaten to sue her. And just for the record, she did apologize (not that that’s gonna get me anything more from the insurance company). So, I can be proud of maintaining and encouraging civility in the midst of very uncivilized circumstances. Hopefully, Ms. G will learn how to control a skid and grow up to be a good wife and mother, and will someday teach her kids the value of civilized behavior. Well, I can dream, can’t I???

But too bad about the car (a Chevy Prizm). It had some quirks, but it was generally a good car. I’ll miss it. I would hum a few bars from Neil Young’s “Long May You Run” in tribute, but that baby’s running days are over. All I can say now is “rust in peace”.