Colliding with the Thing

Today on the freeway I collided with a giant bouncing piece of debris. I have no idea what it was, but it was huge and black and cylindrical and very, very hard. My best guess is that it was some kind of planter used in industrial landscaping, but it could just as easily have been some bizarre baptismal font for baby elephants.

It was bouncing and spinning furiously at a diagonal, in the opposite direction of the flow of traffic, and I noticed the cars in front of my weaving wildly, but this is California and they tend to do that with no provocation anyway. So I started my customary lane change to merge with another heavily congested freeway when I noticed the Thing leaping over another car and directly into my lane. I managed to brake lightly and turn so that the Thing and I collided obliquely instead of head-on, but the impact was still loud and sudden.

Miraculously, my car is unscathed-- I can't tell if the scratches on the driver's side are Thing scars or just the result of 11 years of life-- and I didn't cause anyone else to careen into a wall, but the resulting flood of adrenaline made me sick to my stomach.

I relate my debris collision for several reasons, the first of which is that it's the 146th reason (nimble and responsive brakes and steering!) why my 1997 Honda Accord is the Best and Most Loyal Car Ever Made. Second is because it's the perfect metaphor for how things have been going in my work life. Big things are happening all around me, but so far I've managed to duck at just the right moment.


Hope my luck holds.