Worst Birthday Present EVER

[melo_annechen]

It's a day early, but I'm not going to have access tomorrow.

Let’s see, we were in the MSH ghetto called Golf Range at the time, and I was driving alone, so that puts it in August 1983. I had been out to Bob’s Magic Shop and forgot my sunglasses. Driving there was no problem. Driving back I decided to avoid Kingston Pike altogether and take the back roads.

Apparently, that was also the stomping grounds of Bigfoot. Not the mammal, the truck. Clean as the truck was, I don’t think it had been off-road once since leaving the shop. That did not preclude forcing others off the road. I mean, come on, I was driving a Volkswagen older that I was - if I hadn’t swerved, I’d have been squished.

Here’s where I don’t remember a lot. The road was fairly narrow with very deep drainage ditches on either side. I do remember the front right wheel being caught on the edge of the asphalt. The next thing I remember is sitting on the headliner of the car with my feet on the ground through the drivers’ side window, which had already been open. I was surveying the damage, thinking “damn, we have a lot of crap in the car - it’s so much more noticeable when it’s dumped out like this. Hey - the rear window shattered…”

That is when the passenger door opened above me. I was hauled out and set upon my feet by what I now recognize as a half-hill giant. Then he asked if I was okay, which would have been bad had there been a serious injury. I guess he could tell I was still capable of moving on my own.

There was no sign of the jacked-up truck.

The police officer was very nice - I guess he could tell I wasn’t on anything - and the witnesses (yes there were several people who stopped) provided a description of the truck and a partial plate number. The officer helped me gather the stuff slipped out of the car and the towing guy gave me a receipt for the car.

The officer drove me home. Even let me ride up front so as not to cause talk. When we got to the apartment building, I suddenly realized what that day was. I must have said something, because the officer got really worried about me. I told him what day it was. He understood, and escorted me to the door. His first words to my mother was “it wasn’t her fault” and gave a concise report. Just as there may be problem people in any job, there are saints as well.

He left after asking Mama not to kill me, and I actually think he was joking. She was upset about the car after finding out I was okay, but she did say she wasn’t upset at me. I hugged her and wished her a happy birthday.

I’m pretty sure that wasn’t a factor when we went on the whitewater trip for her birthday in 2003 where I ended up under the raft.

Happy Birthday Mama.