Today Gordon and I met the chaos on Effie before we even got to the base of the hill. There were three average cars crumpled like aluminum cans in a neat pack at the side of the street. A pair of police officers was calmly taking notes, and 8 or so people had gathered on the sidewalk and were smiling and chatting placidly about exchanging insurance information as if they were passing around business cards at a party, or even as though they already knew one another. The scene looked carefully constructed, like an installation of contemporary art with museum patrons milling about the exhibit on opening day. Or maybe all the people were part of the exhibit themselves?
Or maybe my casual studies of car culture’s dark side are getting to me.
It really is interesting how differently people react in those situations. I must say that immediately after my car accident last May, there was very little calm to be found – I was still shaking like a leaf a few hours later. I can tell you that not only was the actual accident a nightmare, but the weeks and months that followed were equally exhausting – the insurance battle is one that I pray I’ll never have to fight again.