I refuse to believe that the bloody image of Andrew WK's face had a thing to do with my car crash on Saturday night/Sunday morn.
Minding my own business, heading home after a longass day of freelance work and newspaper documentation, I was broadsided (as they say in the calamity biz) by a drunk driver running a red light. Hello airbags!
Next thing I knew I was looking down a street I had not been driving on, fondling the airbags, thinking how the smell was choking and the white plastic had a neat texture and the bags an impresssive thickness.
Thanks to driving a sturdy Forester I'm writing epinw today with minor aches and pains fixable by Motrin and Oban.
The other driver +3 were taken away on stretchers. Laura, who I called as I'd just seen her, was at my side as were several empathetic emergency fixer-uppers all saying You've been in a very serious car accident, forget about the car, how are you?
After three hours in the hospital I was free to leave with a handout about head injuries/bumps on heads. Before leaving Laura said Let's take a photo of you on the hospital bed so I held up my wrist showing hospital bracelets (one bright orange telling of my PCN = penicillin allergy) and holding up the pee sample they asked for as I headed off to restroom and which nobody seemed very interested in. A nurse came in as we were taking the photo and she seemed annoyed.
Other than THAT the weekend was great, eventful, musicful, socialful, artful.
I may be the next poster person stating how Subaru completely rocks.