Yesterday was pretty much the nicest weather we had seen here in Assumption since 2009 so when the time came for Sandy to head home early from youth groups last night, I volunteered to just walk home. It was at this point that I fell into what has become the folly of the present generation.
The other day when I tried to take a picture of the nachos from Billy Barooz in Champaign (because they were roughly the size of my head) I found that there was no space left on my phone. After approximately one half block's walk my ADD took over so I turned to my phone for solace and set to work removing files to make space for the next incredible picture to join my Elvis-impersonator-at-the-airport and minivan-turned-into-a-pickup-truck photos on my phone.
I made my way stealthily through the night walking through what was apparently more of a mud-pit than a brick sidewalk before choosing to take to the road rather than walking across a yard in the continued absence of an acceptable sidewalk option. I was thoroughly engrossed in clearing unneeded files from my phone, rejoicing as I found and removed the extended audio recording accidentally made from my pocket earlier last week when something strange happened. I stopped.
To be specific, my bottom half stopped while my top half kept moving and sprawled itself across the hood of the parked truck I had walked into. It was like I had been apprehended and frisked by some incorporeal law enforcement agent. In the following seconds, I did what anyone would do - took a brief look around to make sure no one had seen me and continued on as if nothing had happened, pretending my legs weren't in pain from their meeting with the truck's bumper. At this point I can't even tell you much of anything about what sort of truck it was because I didn't want to draw any attention by gawking at the single vehicle on any otherwise entirely empty street whose front bumper I had managed to walk directly into. Had someone seen me, I didn't want to give them the pleasure of watching me mentally struggle with where in the world that truck had come from.
I had a similar experience sometime last year. I had left the church building and was walking towards my car so that I could make a quick trip to the bank. On the short trip across the yard to my vehicle, I was intently counting the deposit I was about to make when I low hanging tree branch met my face and abruptly stopped my counting and all other brain function as it stopped the forward motion of my head. The bill of my hat was smashed down into my face to the rest of it lifted up off the back of my head comically. My glasses acted in like manner, with the arms being cruelly and forcefully removed from their home behind my ears.
Like I said, my brain briefly ceased to function and I am fairly certain I almost lost consciousness as my view changed from being of the money in my hands to little more than darkness and stars. Mercifully and miraculously I was able to avoid losing my footing and was able to continue my walk in shame as I reattached my hat, glasses, and pride. Once again, my first move was a quick glance to ensure no one had seen me and was quickly followed by the resumption of my trip the car as if nothing had happened - in spite of what was a fairly painful face injury.
I didn't immediately inspect the tree to see if some new branch had grown. Considering the fact that there was no give when I hit the tree, it was fairly obvious that this was a long-established growth. I did, however, return to inspect exactly what had happened later, when I knew for certain that I had no audience. Later today, I will drive by the site of my collision with a parked car and postulate as to how, exactly, I could have been so engrossed that I could run into a car. It isn't like I tripped on a stick or a crack in the sidewalk...
I am sure that not everyone is as ridiculous and careless as I can be at times, but we all get smoked in the face by inanimate objects as we walk along... at least figuratively. Looking back it is painfully and embarrassingly obvious what happened. At that point you can take the blame for being oblivious to what is going on around you, or you can just get angry at what was roughly the equivalent of a parked car.
For my part, I would like to say that I took the high road in my battle against inanimate objects... but that tree is now nothing more than a divot in the front yard and a pile of wood across the street. As for the parked truck? Only time will tell...
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