Safety First

All is well in Austin, Texas.

What a self-centered pronouncement. Of course all is not well, not at all, not for the friends and families of 63 deeply lamented, newly departed avians. And all will not be well again for a very long time, if ever. But why dwell on it? You just have to get on with your life, that's what I always say, or at least that's what I say when I'm not wallowing in my own misery, which, just at this particular moment in time, I am not, which means I get to tell you how to feel. Silly bird! Emotions are for mammals.

I'd also like to make it perfectly clear at this point that my smoke-ring-blowing 1992 VW Golf was nowhere near 9th and Congress when I started it up this morning.

This morning several of us from my department attended the mandatory quarterly safety meeting. We have to go to these because we sometimes go out into the field, which let me tell you, is absolutely teeming with 18-wheelers just itching to run us over. Repeatedly. Very violent, these 18-wheelers. Not being an automotive psychologist, I couldn't really tell you what motivates them; but I'm sure it has something to do with an unhappy childhood. They probably particularly hate my car.

Today's presentation was supposed to be on the hazards of cigarette smoking. So it struck me as rather odd that three of my non-smoking coworkers and I went, whereas Bitching Smoker (just as an example off the top of my head) is scheduled for next month's meeting. But it doesn't matter, because the featured guest speaker never showed up anyway; in which case I really feel that my coworkers and I have little choice but to go out and buy several packs of cigarettes, inhale them right away, and become nicotine addicts, because our employer failed to officially inform us that this would be a bad idea.

So since the speaker didn't show up, we got to watch the same video I saw at the last safety meeting I attended. It's called "One Step from Death" and contains many heartwrenching voiceover narratives, hair-raising dramatizations - all with the scene cutting to black at exactly the crucial moment - and extremely ominous music. In one scene, a state employee called "Cindy" sits on the ground, stirring hot mix, with her back to a slowly reversing cement mixer, beeping as it backs up, inexorably approaching her, but she's engrossed in her work, beep - beep - beep Oh no! Cindy, look out!!! and the cement mixer backs up closer - and she doesn't look up - closer, closer - beep - beep - beep - closer, closer - shelooksupinhorrorbutit'stoolate! Cut to black.

I'm sorry, but Cindy is the poster child for zombie fodder.

And then there was the guy they showed who heard his phone ringing, in his truck parked on the other side of the highway, and vaulted across the concrete barricade directly into the path of an oncoming 18-wheeler. "Dave was a real go-getter," said the sad voiceover. "He'd been doing his job well for over 20 years."

I know this post has been all over the place, but basically, I'm trying to tell you: 1. Don't smoke, 2. Don't jump in front of 18-wheelers, and most importantly, 3. Try to avoid being a bird if you see me getting into my car. Trust me on this.