Bad Vibrations

Sometimes our sense of mortality needs refreshing; needs a reminder that death can come very easily and at any given moment, and really what better method of refreshment than a near death experience? I was eighteen and marginally less aware of how effortless it is to be six feet under, working a time consuming two online class schedule from the then named UVSC (tough stuff) when my family decided to make a quick trip up to the turgid establishment of Thanksgiving Point. The reason for this escapade was my sweet (but not sweet at the time) sister's wedding. She needed some shots of herself and her hubby strutting their stuff in full marriage duds in the lovely but expensive gardens of Thanksgiving point; more expensive than lovely to be sure.

Our party consisted of me, my Mother, my little sister Jillian, and of course the soon to be hitched duo, Bronson and Tana. My older sister and one half of a fraternal twinship, Cassidy, who was located in Logan, UT at the time, would be meeting us there. I don't know why I thought it would be fun to go, I mean, what angst ridden eighteen year old in the proper state of mind says to himself,"Wedding pictures with bridezilla at Thanksgiving Point! I'm so there!" Just so happens I went, and just so happens I got a lot more than carsick and cranky out of it.

The day went as it was supposed to, given a few slip ups with reservations and camera gear, but overall everyone was good natured and sufficiently photographed by the end of the day. Suddenly, however, my sister in her pre-marriage frenzy decided she wanted some more pictures by the temple in Salt Lake. Now I don't think anyone including the husband-to-be, were too thrilled with the idea, but considering my sister was on birth control to help subdue her ovarian cysts and under due stress from all the preparations leading up to the big day, trying to resist her would be like trying to resist the pull of a giant class five tornado, a tornado with a wedding dress. Compliance was a must.

We split ourselves up into two vehicles: Mom, Jillian and the Disgustingtons (an affectionate term) in the suburban and Cass and I in her old Subaru. Off we went, my new cherished Neon Bible by The Arcade Fire playing loudly in the car. I was smiling, Cass was smiling, Black Waves/Bad Vibrations was playing when suddenly a vehicle two lanes over swerved into our own, causing a white pick up to cut in front of us. With a bang and a crack and possibly even a snap, my head was bleeding and Cassidy was having trouble breathing. Neither of us were smiling anymore...well, until I pulled a chunk of my own hair out and turned to my sister, "Look" I said, smiling blood, "My hair." Then we both laughed; everything is funny after almost dying or dying or whatever state we were in. Even more funny was the giant star shaped crack in the windshield where my head had hit, little tufts of bloody hair poking out of the cracks. I got a real kick out of that in particular.

Some dumb questions like,"Who's the President?" and "What's the date?" and an ambulance drive later, we were both in the hospital. I was a bloody mess, but quite possibly the sweetest bloody mess since Carrie. Seriously, I checked my medical records later and the report made constant reference to my "pleasantness." Adrenaline had done its job and I was simply happy to be alive...but that happiness would soon fade, and fast, for my precious Arcade Fire album had been permanently damaged in the crash, never to be recovered. Life is fragile...but so are fifteen dollar Cd's. Regardless I don't listen to that album when driving anymore, not out of superstition, but out of the fear of losing my favorite album again.

Oh, and as for my dear Cass, she they thankfully turned out okay, with the exception of a neck injury which forced her to wear a neck brace for the next few months. As for my mother, my sisters and my brother-in-law...they may have a suffered some emotional trauma, but as my nurse constantly reminded me it could have been worse. "My son-in-law was decapitated in a car crash like the one you were in."
"Oh really?"
I responded, still smiling and giddy but extremely concerned, "That's terrible." Later on when preparing for a nasty shot of something-or-other to the forehead so glass could be removed from my face, she sweetly consoled,"This will feel like a thousand bee stings." In that brief moment I realized I didn't feel so bad for her or her headless son-in-law after all.

We all stayed at my relatives house in Orem that night, and I had time to reflect on my situation with the cosmos. "Maybe I'm alive for a reason," I thought, "Or maybe I'm just damn lucky," I also mused. It didn't matter, I learned some important things that day. I learned how precious life is and how easily it can all be stripped away from us in split second and that I should probably appreciate it more, but most importantly I learned that it's also usually a good idea to wear a seat belt, and I only say "usually" because if I would have worn a seat belt I wouldn't have a totally bad ass scar on my eyebrow. There are are trade-offs I suppose.