February 24th, 2003. Monday
So the weekend went like this: hilarious, boring, tiring, awkward, and sincerely terrifying. Literally. But we'll proceed in chronological order...Friday night, Miss Charming Melodee and I met up in the city and walked over to an art gallery way to the west in Chelsea. One of her friends works at the gallery, and it was hosting an art opening for the director John Waters. That sounded pretty interesting to me, and all I could think about was his guest shot on the Simpsons and how hilarious it was. I don't think I've ever actually seen one of his movies. Anyway, it was all photographs, and most of then were screen shots of other movies and tv shows, most of which were altered slightly in some way or another. Not terribly interesting, and probably would've been less interesting had it not been John Waters. So we mostly stayed in the back room where we talked to Miss CM's friends and scavenged whatever wine and cheese was leftover. I accidentally stepped on someone's foot, and when I turned to apologize, i found that it was actually John Waters' foot that I had stepped on. He had big feet.
After that, MCM and I hopped on the F train to or old place of residence in Park Slope and met up with Jed, Jen, Matt, and his girlfriend at Jed's apt. Then off to the movies for a screening of the new film Old School. The first time I saw the trailer, I thought it looked hilarious. After subsequent viewings, I thought it was one of those movies where the best bits are in the trailer and it would get tiresome quickly. And, as I suspected, the film was full of a lot of not-so-original bits and story lines, and some of the them weren't pulled off very well or were resolved too hastily. That said, it was probably the funniest movie I've seen in a long, long, long time. The bit with Will Ferrell and the tranquilizer gun that they show in the trailer seemed funny enough, but I never imagined how much funnier the scene could actually be. It just done really well. The film was exactly what it claimed to be- an (sorry) old school college guy movie, full of the standard elements- wacky fraternity antics, girl subplots, a cartoonishly nerdy and antagonistic dean, and gratuitous nudity. Really, I was in tears. Will Ferrell and Vince Vaughn basically play Will Ferrell and Vince Vaughn-both of whom I am usually reluctant to like for exactly those reasons- Luke Wilson is as uncharasmatic as ever, and Jeremy Piven's comedic talents are terribly underused in a flat role, but it all comes together gloriously. The creepy guy from the diner scene in Mulholland Drive was also in it, as the dean's totey, and all I could think when he was on camera was "That's the creepy guy from the diner scene in Mulholland Drive."
Then we went off to Great Lakes for a standard night of Great Lakes-ness. Cheap and free beers, loud music, conversations about ass-wiping techniques, and Jen being mean to me for no discernible reason. Though she apologized for that. I am missing that bar and that neighborhood a lot more lately, as I am the people around there too.
Saturday didn't really begin for us until well after 3 PM, so it was a little late for scrambled eggs and French toast. But that was the meal anyway. And it was good. Ventured out into the drizzle to get a table for MCM in the city, headed home, got some pizza, watched the sham of the Mike Tyson fight, and rented the Woody Allen film "What's Up, Tigerlilly." I don't know if I was too tired or not in the right mood, but it just wasn't as funny as I'd remembered. I'd never seen the whole thing, but I remember laughing uproariously while watching parts of it last summer. anyway, it was a dreary day best spent indoors. Did a little guitar playing also. As much as I like MCM, it's always a nice bonus that she plays the guitar, and with a sensibility somewhat similar to my own to boot.So Sunday- got up earlier than I do for work to catch the 9:48 Metro North train so Miss CM and I could attend her grandfather's birthday lunch. Her mom picked us up. She was driving a Suzuki mini-SUV or sorts, and I was immediately nervous, since I'd never seen that car and don't like that style of car in general. I mentioned something to MCM about how dangerous I thought it was that the rear seats didn't have head rests. But then let it go. Then we, along with her sister and their dog drove about an hour farther north. I had been warned that the amount of food would be near-obscene, and that was just about accurate. If I didn't love Italian food there might have been a problem. But melon and prosciutto and salami and cubed cheese was an excellent start to the meal, and it was good throughout. Some minor awkwardness being introduced and re-introduced to much of the extended family, and at times I imagined I was in an Olive Garden "When you're here, your family" commercial, which made me giggle to myself. Besides that though, the only other awkwardness was when I broke their corkscrew trying to open the bottle of wine I'd brought as a gift.
After the meal, and after looking through lots of pictures, MCM took a walk up the snowy hill. There was a little bird coop, and inside were three pheasants being held for fun or food or something. Then we grabbed a sled that was lying around, and went down the hill a few times. It was glorious fun. I hadn't gone sledding in quite some time. I nearly injured myself when I couldn't stop at the bottom of the hill and dropped a few feet onto the asphalt driveway, and I'm suffering from minor frostbite, but besides that, it went swimmingly.
Then the ride home. I was in the front seat, with the yorkshire terrier in my lap. Cute little dog. Standing on its hind legs, looking out the window most of the ride home. I fell in and out of sleep. It had rained all weekend, and the weather had been warmer. By the time it got dark out, it was below freezing again. Matt and Jed and James did a little rap in college about "black ice," the transparent ice on roads that looks like water. The lyrics went something like "Black ice- it's gonna getcha!" No fucking shit. So MCM's mom is driving us to the Metro North station, and we pass over a bridge. It's covered with ice, but we get over it ok. So I'm thinking "Thank God we didn't slip on that ice." And as soon as I'm thinking it, the car veers out of control. The screaming begins. I can't remember what I said. I know I said something as we veered into the left lane, the oncoming traffic lane. I said something like "Hold on" or "It'll be ok." Something rather calm I think. I also thought "Is she turning the wheel the right way for the direction we're skidding?" and "I wonder if the wheels are designed to transfer power from the spinning wheels to the other wheels?" and "Are we in 4-wheel drive?" I did most of this thinking within the first 2 seconds of the skid. Then I realized it was absurd and irrelevant. The only thing that was going to stop our skidding was whatever we hit. Luckily we were going uphill a bit, so we slowed a bit as we crashed into the snowbank. Luckily, not all the snow had melted from the two feet that dropped last week. So we rammed into the snow bank as we fishtailed, and, predictably, the car went toppling over. Then over again. To tell you the truth, I'm always worried that SUVs are going to tip over, having been in a fair number of trips in Isuzu Troopers and Ford Broncos to feel terribly uncomfortable in them. So when the car started falling over to my side, I wasn't really surprised. I just held on and braced myself. Still, I kept thinking "I can't believe this is happening," the whole way through. It was pretty fucking scary, watching the scenery change in front of you like you're in some sort of simulation ride or something. Pretty goddam scary. We didn't know how many times we'd roll over or how long we'd slide or where we were going to end up. It happened quickly, but seemed to go on for a long time. The uncertainty, you know
So when our motion finally stopped, the car was sitting on its roof, the front sticking out into the road, and we were upside down, hanging from our seats. Luckily, quick responses to the "Is everyone ok"'s. Still some screaming, then the sound of breaking glass. My immediate thought was "Shit, we're going to be crushed. The car is collapsing in on us." So I unbuckle my seat belt and fall to the ceiling, grab my phone and dial 911." It's fucking busy. At this point, I'm fairly sure that the car us collapsing, and that the four of us are trapped inside. Totally forgot about the dog. MCM's mom is screaming, telling me to try to open the door on my side, since all the other doors are buried in snow. I was completely disoriented. I'd never been in this car, and when I looked at my feet, i saw they were on the broken windshield. No idea where the handle was, I fumbled, finally found it, and the door opened. Thank god. Cause there was a moment there, when I thought we were trapped, that I almost starting freaking the fuck out. I'm mildly claustrophobic, and when I realize I'm pinned somewhere and can't move I really freak out. I probably would've started screaming and thrashing around. But the sound of the hysterical screams really helped me keep it together. So at one point I had a conscious choice to make about whether to lose my shit or not, and I took a few deep breaths and calmed the fuck down. But it was pretty tense there for a moment. After we all got out, MCM's mom was sobbing. I can only imagine how she felt, the guilt of being behind the wheel when the car flips over and your two daughters are in the back seat. I guess after she saw the wreck from the outside, it really hit her. So a few cars stop, and one guy gets out to see if we're ok. MCM is worried about us getting hit by oncoming traffic, and that's the only thing I could think about for a while. Turns out the guy was a volunteer EMS guy or something who had just been called in to work and just left his house. Pretty fucking fortunate. And really, for as fucked up as the thing was, it could have been so much worse. The area is full of lakes and reservoirs. And even we'd skidded to the other side, a nice deep stream of melted snow filled the ditch. I know. I stepped in it later up to my mid calfs. So we would have had that to deal with, which might've made getting out of the car near impossible. Just thinking about it now is making me freak out a bit. I can't believe nothing else went wrong. We could've easily been hit by upcoming traiffic while we were in the car or while we were getting out. When the EMS guy was driving us home, there were several more calls of accidents and multi-car pileups. So I guess we got out pretty lucky.
When I crawled back in the car to get some of our stuff, and we were out of immediate danger, that's when the adrenaline output really overloaded my nervous system. My spine stiffened like a metal rod and I couldn't move, and started hyperventilating a bit. I was finally able to process what just happened. And I couldn't believe the fucking dog made it out unscathed. The best explanation I can come up with was that the dog pulled a Lionel Richie from his "Dancin' On the Ceiling" video. As the car rolled onto its side and then onto the roof, old Ziggy just rolled and walked along with it. Totally fine and untraumatized. Although from what I hear from MCM, he was having nightmares last night.
I couldn't believe how unaffected MCM's sister was either. She was asleep right until the screaming started, and I don't think she was wearing her seat belt. But she just stood there by the side of the road, taking it all in. When we got home, after explaining it to MCM's dad, three minutes later, she was like "Ooo, the Grammy's are on."So then, after MCM was kind enough to blow-dry my shoes a bit, we had to get back in their other vehicle another damn SUV, (although one having a much lower center of gravity) and head back out so we could take the train back to Brooklyn. I expected the worse. I was sure we'd get into another accident. Or that we'd be carjacked while sitting at the train station, or that the train would derail, or that the cab we took home would slide right off the Queensborough or Pulaski Bridge. Or that I would slip and fall in the shower at home. But here I am, at work, like it was all a dream. Except my neck is a little stiff and my shoulder a bit sore. Though it's tough to tell if it's from the sledding or from being in a car that flipped upside down.
On a somewhat unrelated note, I was reading the Sports Guy's column on ESPN.com, and he was writing about the Grammys. For some reason, I'm mildly fascinated by the Dixie Chicks. I'm a little impressed by them, mostly because they play their own instruments, and an impressive variety at that. But this Sports Guy passage kind of sums it up for me:
"By the way, the Dixie Chicks are fascinating -- none of them are overwhelmingly cute, but all of them keep your interest, give you different looks and keep you guessing. It's the same dynamic that worked so well for Blair and Jo on "The Facts of Life" -- you weren't bowled over by them, but you also weren't ready to write them off, either. All right, I'm babbling.)"
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