Wednesday, July 23, 2008
Another Tin Foil Hat Moment
There is blogging etiquette. I just don't know where the lines are until I have crossed them. Take the following post. I poached it. Lock, stock and barrel.....from myself. I posted it originally in June of 2006. You might think, "So what's the big deal?" Or gasp, throw your hand over your eyes, and mutter something about "convention". There is no big deal of course. I just liked this when I spotted it again while sifting through old posts looking for a different one.
You might think, "Ah, he didn't have anything to write about." Maybe, maybe not. Re-runs are as American as shopping for Apple pie at Walmart.
From the dust ridden and unread CRUM Archives, first posted 6-9-06
Drained and semi-comatose, I headed home tonight after another week of fixing bikes, selling bikes, and dealing with all the fires peculiar to bike retail. On autopilot, I drove the foggy dark road home. My mind wandered off course. The normal thoughts and concerns I usually chew on as I drive were MIA. About Parker's Marina, I suddenly wondered what would happen if an alien space ship landed on the bridge separating Acton from the rest of Maine. And it landed right in front of me with it's invisible cloaking device engaged. I would smash into it at 50 plus MPH and never know what hit me. Like a mosquito hitting a windshield at 50, the last thing through my mind would be my asshole. A moment of true concern flashed by and I quickly checked to see if I was strapped in. Made me smile at the ridiculous idea of encountering an invisible anything in a moving vehicle. Made me smile that such a random idea should even stop in to visit. I must be tired.
But what about the Earth is flat, we're all just the bastard offspring of a cross alien coupling that took place 40,000 years ago in another dimension type person? I am sure there are some people so far over the edge, a thought like invisible alien ships landing on the interstate would be given the serious consideration it deserves. They would work their paranoia into a frenzy creating every possible scenario and catastrophe that would result from such an encounter. 39 smashed and destroyed vehicles smouldering and sparking flames. Bodies scattered about with guts and blood everywhere. Some of them might even give up driving. Many would burrow deeper into their aluminum foiled forts and stock up on more gatorade.
I mean, it is a scary thought to consider hitting something invisible. Something more solid than you are. And until you have done it, you have no idea just how scary it is. I know. In 1975 we had just closed down our last bar in Fells Point in Baltimore. Three of us staggered up the sidewalk and at full tilt lurch I walked into an invisible object. An unyielding unmovable structure caught me square between the eyes and down I went. My glasses separated in the middle. They had been cut clean like a laser saber through a Jedi knight.
As I sat there on the sidewalk trying to regain some composure and take stock of any damage, a street sign suddenly appeared in the space previously occupied by the invisible brick wall. I swear that sign was not there until after I looked up. Never mind the fact my friends were pissing themselves from laughter. They were drunk. They weren't as sharp and on top of it as I was. They were not privy to all the classified realities I was. That sign was purposely relocated there by forces not wanting to be revealed. I knew it to be true. That was the only possible explanation. I would never be so dumb as to walk into something headfirst that was in this dimension. Inebriated or not.
So be careful out there. Just because you cannot see it, does not mean it is not there.