CHOOSE RANT

Title:   Swervedriver Day:    September 13th, 1999 Author:  Ruiner				No, this rantspeech has nothing to do with the group. I've never heard a word they've played. In fact I can't honestly remember if it was a musical group or if it was just an album title. Cool name though, and it's sort of relevant to this (which isn't really a rant either I must warn you). Ah, the Labor Day weekend and the power of Dennis. For those reading this millennia ahead in some odd time bubble, Dennis is a tropical storm / hurricane that plagued the North Carolina for well over a week. It threatened and promised doom as it slid up the coast, and then as it arrived… it sat there. We got lots of winds the first few days, but not a whole lot of rain. Heck, now that this beast has left us, we're still in the drought zone overall for the year. They say the rains were just too late to help the farmers. Oh well. But anyway, as Labor Day weekend crept forward, so did Dennis. He stayed a tropical storm in category, but hit us with an onslaught of heavy rains. And if you wanted to go anywhere, well you had to traverse the weather. I did. It's not like I'm that afraid of inclement weather, right? So it's Saturday, and I just don't have much going on. I'll admit, this rock n'roll lifestyle as a bachelor just isn't overflowing with parties and things to do. I'm still in the vacuous zone I like to refer to as the NGP (the No Girlfriend Phenomena). Sure, I occasionally catch movies and go hang out with people, but my schedule seems remarkably free, except when I know I should be doing something else. I get a call, then referred to as Stupid Phone Request #3. The girl who had committed this crime was also responsible for SPR #'s 1 and 2, on Thursday and Friday respectively. Each night she would call and ask some favor of me that was way out of bounds, totally unbelievable. For reference, she's the wife of a good friend of mine, and she's not that bad a person most times. =) So she's trying to cajole me into driving to Durham and helping her out for a few hours. In actuality, this was a repeat of SPR #2, with more pleading involved. And there was a little sweetener involved. I would get to see and briefly hang out with a female friend of hers who I'm really attracted to. So even though the weather is horrendous, I'm swayed to travel out by my infamous lack of willpower and my general nice-guy attitude. You've read all of my previous rants - you know I'm a nice guy right? Right? Oh well… So out I go into the wild, wet weather. For further reference, I drive a small Dodge Sundance, a rather unimpressive ride with no real power. As I ride out and get halfway, something interesting happens. I had just passed a car, even though I was for once driving the speed limit. That's the deal with me: if it's really rough weather, I will be sensible and drive the posted speed limit. What am I, foolish? As I'm nearly two car lengths ahead of this other vehicle (note my Southern NASCAR-influenced usage of car lengths), I begin to hydroplane. For those of you too young to drive (those same people who I tone down the language for) when you hydroplane, your car effectively loses traction with the road because all your tires are touching is the sheets of water. So you slide uncontrollably in various directions until your car regains traction. The Sundance lost traction, not having a lot of weight anyhow, and began to spin. Instead of doing the sensible thing and tapping the brake pedal, I did the instinctive thing and crushed it with my foot. So the car spun some to the point where I was looking back at the car behind me. I wonder if the incident scared the person I had just passed as much as it did me? But it wasn't over. I kept going, spinning further and into the grassy median between the two sections of road. Luckily there were no concrete dividers, randomly dispersed objects or anything hazardous. Just grass and the other lane. And the luck continued, for there were no vehicles in oncoming traffic. Once hitting that other section of road, I regained traction and was able to come to a complete stop. Jeez. Safe and sound, I drove the car across the road to a small parking lot where I inspected the car for any significant damage. Things I observed in this ten-second slide of doom: I will always associate this incident with the song "Let the Good Times Roll", a cover of the old Cars song performed by Powerman 5000. I still remember the accident I was in playing Metal Militia by Metallica, and that's been ten years. In that ten seconds, I almost gave up on certain elements in my life that others would deem sinful. I'm obviously not religious and wasn't about to be converted. But I do believe in karma, and somehow my brain rationalized that if I were to relinquish some of these evil tendencies of mine, my life would be more pleasant and danger-free. Luckily no commitment was made and I wised up before anything bad was to happen (and I miss it). The front right wheel cover spun off in the maelstrom, off into a ravine I narrowly missed, never to be seen again. They're nothing special, but my car seems so beat down missing that cover. It almost looks the depreciated cash value that those rip-off car books list it to be. I did think about death during that small high-velocity interlude. The centrifugal forces must have warped my brain, leading me to believe that the car would flip and crush me or become a supermagnet and attract the nearest transfer truck. All I could think of was "Damn, I'm gonna die over some piece of ass I'm never gonna get even if I live." Not that I've ever thought that before. Ha ha. The thought of death is pretty scary, when you're right there, front row with the film projector over your shoulder. All the thoughts of being unprepared, and personally for me the thoughts of 'Whoops, I messed up'. Powerful medicine, ya know. So now I'm morally obligated to take some chances. To face those things I find frightening, look them in the eye and go 'Why Not'? So all you ladies in the area, be warned: The Swervedriver is looking for a way out of the NGP, and you could be his ticket. Heh. B.Mooney