If you ever think your life is weird, or bad....think of this person.
Tonight, sitting at the computer, I suddenly heard a loud, droning sound. It turned out to be the car across the street and up the block 2 houses. They guy driving it (if you can call it that) backed out of the driveway and the ass end was sticking out in the road. The car was parked (no brakelights) and the gas pedal must've been mashed to the floor. Within about 40 seconds of seeing this, the catalytic converter's contents began to overheat and dissipate through the exhaust. Being platinum pellets, they combusted and made lots of little backfires as they shot out through the muffler....glowing hot and coming completely across the street. Now, the sudden change in the exhaust tone didn't deter this individual. He kept on at it. And slowly, the entire exhaust system began to glow, until it finally got a nice, bright orange-red. At this point, I dialed 911. As I am giving the (oddly enough) sultry-sounding dispatcher the vital info, the car becomes very bright, and the smoke begins pouring from under the hood. Well, that is the beginning of the entire engine getting a little too toasty for its own good and combusting the engine compartment. All those fine plastics and rubber compunds, slowly reaching their flashpoint. As I hang up, I hear the first siren from the Engine Company literally 2 blocks the other direction. Well, before they get on-scene, flames begin lapping out of the car and bright flaming bits pour onto the pavement. Now, mind you, the driver is still inside. The FD hops out and pulls off a speedlay (1.5" hose line and nozzle...a quick, effective first-offense tool). Within about, oh, 6 seconds the car's visible flames are put out. During this brief exchange, the driver opens his door and sits there, and the firefighters run over and drag out a young man in a ski jacket. The FD conitnues to chock the wheels and pop the hood and saturate the car. After there is no smoke or steam, I wander out onto the porch to eavesdrop. The poor lad said he fell asleep. Maybe. But he was talking (again, if you can call it that) so loud, and in such unclear sentence fragments, that I kinda suspected he was bombed. Well, he attempted to stand up and fell on his face. Then he began telling the FD how he was sitting at home getting drunk and wanted to meet some friends at the bar. Then he passed out at the wheel. But, if you were passed out and awoke to your car in flames and you in the driver seat, wouldn't you try to get out and not just sit there? So, as they are hobbling him to the recently-arrived ambulance, he starts sobbing very loudly. Turns out the latest explanation was that he didn't want to live anymore.
I went inside as the cops showed up, thinking that I am a really screwed up individual sometimes, but I can handle things so much better than some people. Then I feel guilty for thinking about me, and immediately am hit with a wall of sadness that this guy really thought he was better off not alive. Then I feel really good because I realize that I might have very well helped save him. So it's kind of a mess in my head. Mostly, I just feel sad for him.
So if you get to thinking that things are bad, or weird, or too much...they aren't. Just look with better eyes than that.
There is always someone who cares. Always someone to help. Even in a stranger. So just look differently, OK? But best of all, never ever think that way.
OK, I have to go do some research for a friend now. Hopefully that will take my mind off things. Now, if only the apartment didn't smell like burning plastic....
Tonight, sitting at the computer, I suddenly heard a loud, droning sound. It turned out to be the car across the street and up the block 2 houses. They guy driving it (if you can call it that) backed out of the driveway and the ass end was sticking out in the road. The car was parked (no brakelights) and the gas pedal must've been mashed to the floor. Within about 40 seconds of seeing this, the catalytic converter's contents began to overheat and dissipate through the exhaust. Being platinum pellets, they combusted and made lots of little backfires as they shot out through the muffler....glowing hot and coming completely across the street. Now, the sudden change in the exhaust tone didn't deter this individual. He kept on at it. And slowly, the entire exhaust system began to glow, until it finally got a nice, bright orange-red. At this point, I dialed 911. As I am giving the (oddly enough) sultry-sounding dispatcher the vital info, the car becomes very bright, and the smoke begins pouring from under the hood. Well, that is the beginning of the entire engine getting a little too toasty for its own good and combusting the engine compartment. All those fine plastics and rubber compunds, slowly reaching their flashpoint. As I hang up, I hear the first siren from the Engine Company literally 2 blocks the other direction. Well, before they get on-scene, flames begin lapping out of the car and bright flaming bits pour onto the pavement. Now, mind you, the driver is still inside. The FD hops out and pulls off a speedlay (1.5" hose line and nozzle...a quick, effective first-offense tool). Within about, oh, 6 seconds the car's visible flames are put out. During this brief exchange, the driver opens his door and sits there, and the firefighters run over and drag out a young man in a ski jacket. The FD conitnues to chock the wheels and pop the hood and saturate the car. After there is no smoke or steam, I wander out onto the porch to eavesdrop. The poor lad said he fell asleep. Maybe. But he was talking (again, if you can call it that) so loud, and in such unclear sentence fragments, that I kinda suspected he was bombed. Well, he attempted to stand up and fell on his face. Then he began telling the FD how he was sitting at home getting drunk and wanted to meet some friends at the bar. Then he passed out at the wheel. But, if you were passed out and awoke to your car in flames and you in the driver seat, wouldn't you try to get out and not just sit there? So, as they are hobbling him to the recently-arrived ambulance, he starts sobbing very loudly. Turns out the latest explanation was that he didn't want to live anymore.
I went inside as the cops showed up, thinking that I am a really screwed up individual sometimes, but I can handle things so much better than some people. Then I feel guilty for thinking about me, and immediately am hit with a wall of sadness that this guy really thought he was better off not alive. Then I feel really good because I realize that I might have very well helped save him. So it's kind of a mess in my head. Mostly, I just feel sad for him.
So if you get to thinking that things are bad, or weird, or too much...they aren't. Just look with better eyes than that.
There is always someone who cares. Always someone to help. Even in a stranger. So just look differently, OK? But best of all, never ever think that way.
OK, I have to go do some research for a friend now. Hopefully that will take my mind off things. Now, if only the apartment didn't smell like burning plastic....
posted by Rich at 1/08/2004 09:46:00 PM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home