Listen: The other night near Sunset and Fountain, a big bear of an SUV pounced on a wily motorcycle, in plain view of the shiny new McDonald’s Playland. The SUV pinned the motorcycle, and they died in that awkward embrace. The scene was so bright, contained, all beads of glass and shimmering metal. Nothing organic about it. Did the drivers of these mechanical beasts simply evaporate? (And what’s with my voyeurism, anyway? Hadn’t I got enough of dead flesh at the Science Center the day before?)
It was easy to imagine how Kilgore Trout might have witnessed such an accident through alien eyes.
I beg you (all four or five of you) to consider yourselves armed and dangerous. You are rational, loving human beings, but you are nonetheless capable of killing. Your automobile is a deadly weapon. Cars Kill. Resist relaxation while driving, for driving is not a natural state. Put down the phone. Leave that stereo be. Both hands on the wheel, eyes and mind on the road. I beg you.
You said it, sister – we are armed. It’s a powerful statement, but so true. I, too, urge everyone to be more defensive, cautious, and alert. It’s as scary as hell to be in a four lane road, approaching a major intersection, and to see your front driver’s side bumper as it becomes the receiving end of someone’s blinded left turn. I am definitely more conscious of my own driving since my accident over a year ago, though admittedly, I know that I have room to improve. People are in such a rush and dangerously oblivious that they lose focus what’s going on around them. Be safe out there, everyone.
Be safe or become mutilated flesh art. Thats my new motto. Actually I’m very lucky to live in a very friendly town where most drivers go out of their way to stop for me and my fellow pedestrians. See how this works? Here is where I now plug the safest mode of transportation, and guess what – it does NOT included motorized wheels. Ooooo, and with THIS kind of transportation you actually have the opportunity (though not the obligation) to smile and say hello to those you pass by. Contrast that to how everyone else immediately becomes a #$%&! idiot when you slip behind the wheel. Granted, maybe some people prefer to greet people with a scowl and raised middle finger. To those people I say put the pedal to the metal and drive yourself into a phone pole. We’ll string your remains up as an art exhibit making a statement against the automobile.
Ah, yes. Y’all make observations that are very dear to me. People are so darn oblivious, in such a big rush… live fast and act important, die hard, exquisite corpse, blah-blah-blah. It’s not living, though.
One of my past selves thought My Car meant freedom, long ago, when the nearest independent movie house was 60 miles from home. These days I am nothing but a rebellious slave. I moved to the city to torture myself on clogged boulevards and "freeways" (love that doublespeak)? The devil designed Los Angeles. You wanna witness my confusion? In a given day, I shake my fist and curse him, cross myself and drive, and smile and greet the fellow pedestrians on these sad little walkways.
I’m adding a link to the synopsis of Kilgore Trout’s Plague on Wheels. Did I say I think Vonnegut is a genius? I think Vonnegut is a genius.
Cars are, as you say, dirty, ugly, and needy. I don’t know, though; a part of me feels as though my car is one of my keys to escaping the doldrums of the backwoods, while another me would simply love to just ride my bike – I love the feeling of the summer breeze whooshing all around me; that is another freedom, too. Unfortunately, ten speeds don’t handle particularly well in snow drifts and on icy pavement, and the bank still wants me to send them monthly car payments. I guess we all must pick our poison and find our freedoms where we can…