A Close Call

Yesterday I left work a little after 3:00 because I had a 4:00 p.m. doctor appointment.  On a good day, with good weather, it takes me 45 minutes to get there.

This was not a good weather day.

I got to my car around 3:09. The sky to the west (and not very far at all to the west) was a VERY dark blue, the kind you see with a storm coming in.  I needed to drive to the north and east, so I figured if I left right away, I could stay ahead of it.

Decided to stay off interstates because there's been construction lately, and I didn't want anything unplanned to slow me down.  I know all of the back roads, and I started making my way north, then east, then north, etc.

I was staying ahead of the front (barely). When I was going north, there would be openings in the trees that lined most of the roads, driveways and open fields, as examples, where the straight line wind was blowing so hard, it looked like something I've only previously seen in movies. Just concentrated, HARD wind. Not gusts, but WIND.

On one such road, I came upon a tree that had blown over and was laying across the road. This forced me to backtrack a half mile, and that proved to be enough for the storm to catch up to me. For the next 20 minutes I was riding the front like a surfer riding a huge wave. It was loud, rainy, and thundery, but I was doing fine.

With the increase in rain, I was unable to drive any faster than 55 mph most of the time. Even with that, I was still going to be a few minutes late, but not so late they'd make me reschedule.  This mattered because this particular doctor is scheduled a year out, and I really needed to be seen. Had it not been for those factors, I might have found shelter and waited it out.  Did I mention it was a Severe T-Storm Warning this whole time?

A bit further along, I was driving a long stretch of straight, flat, northbound road.  Either I had gotten back ahead of the front, or it had moved to the east and I was just north of it. Either way, the roads were very wet, and I still couldn't get above 55 without hydroplaning.

Amid these conditions, I approached a gentle S-curve in the road, at the center of which was an east-west cross street. In normal conditions, it's such a gentle curve that you don't even have to slow down to easily scoot through it. This time? I was maybe going 50 as I approached it.

I angled my steering wheel to the left, as I've probably done 100 times before at this particular spot. I felt my car hydroplane, and then it began to oversteer to the left. It's plausible (thought I'm not terribly sure) that a gust of wind hit me at that exact moment, and caused my front end to overturn to the left. 

Feeling this, I turned into the skid (as one does), and it didn't work - at least, not to allow me to regain control of the car. I kept rotating to my left while my car also crossed the center line and was quickly approaching the shoulder on the other side of the road. 

As I realized I wasn't regaining control, and that I was about to go off the road on the other side, I calmly but firmly said, "Fuck." I didn't yell it, but just said it.  Tacit confession that I was about to go through something.  Then I braced myself: both hands on the sides of the steering wheel as I saw that I was now perpendicular to the road, still trying to steer into the skid.

In the blink of an eye (literally), my front wheels went into the far shoulder, the car whipped around another 90 degrees, such that I was now facing south, my car fully in the grass off the side of the road and rolling backwards, mud and grass splashing up all over the back of my car. A half second later I opened my eyes, and my car was on the cross street, still facing south, meaning I was now perpendicular to the cross street. I was fully stopped. Completely still.

I sat for a few seconds, waiting to see if any warnings lit up on my dashboard. I figured something had to be wrong, but there was literally nothing.  I didn't even feel an impact of any kind, but just came to a stop once I came back on the pavement. My front tires were a few inches off the road, so I put the car in reverse, backed up a foot, and then went on my way as if nothing had happened.

I genuinely wish I could see a video of this all going down.  It happened so fast, and then I just took off so quickly, that I bet it looked pretty cool. Like something out of an action movie.

Two miles up the road, I said to myself, "DID THAT JUST HAPPEN?"

It did. I'm sure because when I got home, a neighbor kid, who had been outside, walked up and told me something was scraping the ground under my car.  I looked, and sure enough, the plastic piece that runs parallel to the ground, on the underside of the right-front corner, had come loose and was folded under, pinned between the car and the ground.  With a little effort, I unfolded it and pushed it back into place.  Then I saw the panel surrounding the wheel well had come loose in two spots, so I clipped those back on.  TA-DA.  All good!  Like it never happened.

I am really lucky there wasn't another car in that area when I spun out. I also drove back that way today, and I realize now that I kind of threaded a needle, missing two road signs.  Those would have definitely made things worse, probably (at least) causing my air bags to deploy.

So yeah, still kind of amazed at the whole thing. At the doctor, when I explained what had happened, they joked that my blood pressure would be high.  It wasn't.  It never is,  unless I'm sick.

Also, I broke my toe on Sunday morning.

Bye!

Legacy

I had a birthday last week. I am now in the final year of my early-to-mid 40s, and I feel fine.

Occasionally, usually when my age ticks up, I allow myself to reflect on life and what it all means. I don't like to do this all the time because it's not super interesting, and also, who am I to wax on and on about things infinitely larger than myself? Nevertheless, I think we all learn things as we grow and age, and, every now and then, I think something that might just mean something to someone else.

To begin, I want to acknowledge that, for several years, I've actively engaged in naming and counting my blessings. It's not something I exclusively do when good things happen, and it's also not something I exclusively do when I'm feeling down and need a reminder of things that are going well in my life. I try to do this routinely, and with some intentionality.  It helps. 

Secondly, I readily acknowledge that I am too young to be "old" or "wise," so take anything I say with a grain of salt. This is just what makes sense to me, at this point in my journey. It could change, and it probably will.  Having said that, when I am mindful of the good things I have in my life, and I have many, I worry significantly less about dying. To be fair, I have rarely worried about my own death (wow, this got dark, kinda). I do worry about the impact of my death on other people, but I don't fear it for myself.

What worries me is leaving behind a world where I haven't been abundantly clear how I perceived my purpose and my priorities. I worry about leaving questions about myself that no one will be able to answer. A little mystery is fine, as is a level of privacy. But certain things should never be questioned, or left to interpretation. Tomorrow is not guaranteed.

So my third realization is how important it is to know that my message to the world is written and clear. I don't plan on dying anytime soon, but if I did, there's plenty that I'd hope to have said first. Among those:

- Brooke is the love of my life. She makes me want to be a better person every single day.

- I never thought I could love anyone as much as I love Brooke, but I do: both of my kids continuously redefine the limits of how much I thought I could love and care for other human beings. Everyday they do or say something new that just blows me away. They constantly show me how much they are like me, and, simultaneously, how much they are their own people, with their own interests, their own strengths, their own passions, and their own dreams. I tell them I love them in my own subtle ways, and I hope they understand that, "Okay you kids have a good time," and, "Have a good time with your mustache," both directly translate to, "I love you and I think the absolute world of you."

- My mom is the strongest person I have ever known, and I love and adore her.

- I love and respect my siblings, and their families, unequivocally.

- I'm not mad at anyone, but I have chosen to distance myself from some people for good reasons. I don't need to justify any of these choices, and I won't.

- Throughout my life, at every stage, I've encountered one or two people with whom I have forged lasting, meaningful connections. I never take this for granted. I have little doubt that all of these people know who they are and feel similarly. We find our people along our journey, and our connection to them will always bear deep meaning: they are the ones we needed, either at a specific time, or for all time, and sometimes for both. I hope I have given each of them even a fraction of what they have given me.

- I am sorry for ever hurting anyone. I know I have, it's part of life. I'm sorry for the times I was foolish and made mistakes, and I'm sorry for how hard it is to find the right words to make things better.

I think a lot of those things are things most people could say. What's new and unique in my perspective this year is thoughts about legacy: what we leave for the world. I spent the last year of my life really enjoying films far more than I ever have. I will watch just about any movie, period. I find I especially love movies that fall into these categories:

1) Movies that I missed because they came out during particularly busy times in my life

2) Movies that flew under the radar, but really have one or two redeeming qualities

3) Movies that are just truly bad: poorly written, poorly executed, or both
4) Movies from specific times, with which I have less familiarity
5) Movies that most people would simply skip over

Sometimes I find real diamonds in the rough. It helps that I am able to watch a movie without fully focusing in on it (i.e. they make great atmosphere when I'm working from home -- I get more work done with something playing than I do in silence). If something makes an impression on me, I can always watch it again and with greater focus.

Watching so many films brought me to this revelation:

A film is no small accomplishment: it takes years of planning and execution to make one a reality. It takes the coordination of a large number of people, each doing different and important jobs to advance the overall process. Someone wrote every movie, someone directed every movie, someone produced every movie, and someone performed in every movie. Thinking more broadly, some performers, directors, writers, etc. have achieved a level of success that eclipses everyone most of their peers. There are names that seem larger than life, and performances that change us.

Even so, the greatest actor/director/producer/writer may only have a career spanning several decades. Their entire existence is a flash when compared with the entirety of humanity. When they die, we remember them for a moment, and in the time that follows, we may return to their works and appreciate them again, but as time passes, we will collectively think of them less and less frequently. This should not diminish their accomplishments necessarily, but, effectively, it does exactly that. A person whose favorite movie is an action/adventure that came out in 2025 probably wouldn't have much appreciation for Charlie Chaplin, or Buster Keaton, and while that does not take away from Chaplin's or Keaton's work, it does move them incrementally more distant from the zeitgeist. 

No body of work could ever stand the test of time and hold up forever. That is the logical conclusion.

Influence is the next level: the ripples that emerge when an object of some heft disrupts the serenity of the water's surface, forever changing the way the water interacts with everything around it. An actor who grew up adoring the physical performances of the silent era bring an obligation to form that extends the influence of those who came before.

Yet, eventually, the waters will be calm again. The reach of influence is not wholly organic.  Case in point: an ancient Greek poem about war is still impactful, in part, because we make students read it and discuss it every year. Does that make it great? Or is it something to which we feel a collective obligation? Can it be both?

I have much more that I hope to creatively produce in my time, but as I have grown, my understanding of these pursuits has changed. I no longer feel compelled to create so that my name and work will be remembered; instead, I want to create so that I may influence, even if my influence is only that of a grain of sand plunging into calm waters.

My ripple may not be huge, but it will be good. That is my wish.

If you've read this far, remember: I'm not old or wise. There's no guarantee that any of this is right.

But I thank you for reading.





---DISCLAIMER--- 

I'm not depressed, don't worry. That's not what this is. I'm not now, nor have I ever been, suicidal. I've been through some dark-ass times in my life and made it through without endangering myself. I'm just reflecting and sharing what I'm feeling, and my focus is clear: I have plenty that I still want to do, so no part of this should have been read as a farewell. If that has made you uncomfortable, I apologize - not my intent. 

Did IU Beat anOSU?

Yes. 100%. 

The Indiana Hoosiers defeated an University of Ohio State.

There is this narrative circulating amongst anOSU fans that, "IU didn't win; we lost."

This is commonly followed up by, "Should we meet again, it won't be the same."

No, it probably won't.  Here's one big way it will be different:

IU will likely have Omar Cooper back at WR. He was hurt and didn't play in the B1G Championship game. That's kind of a big deal.

But even setting that aside, I'd be curious to know how, specifically, things will really be different.  IU dominated nearly every statistical category, and, more importantly, made big plays when the moment commended them. Clutch, if you will. When it was "put up or shut up" time, IU put up.

So really, I just needed to say this as clear as I can:  IU defeated OSU.  OSU lost, too, if that makes you feel better.

But using, "We lost, they didn't win," also implies that a choice was made: OSU chose to let IU win, and, if given the chance, they would not choose to let IU win again. And that's where the logic train derails.

Eat shit, Buckeyes.  Worry about your next game.

GO HOOSIERS!! WIN THE ROSE BOWL!!