When details don’t matter

An orange taxi hit me early Saturday morning on my way to a race. I flew over three lanes of traffic before landing. At this point, I guess I could talk about all the particulars of the accident…

the way I landed,

the two words I exchanged with the driver before he sped away,

the way the crash happened in slow motion,

how I raced anyway and how the crash ran through my mind again and again the entire time,

the final lap of the race, when I launched my first-ever successful attack,

falling asleep at least five or six times during my shoulder MRI,

the costs, and tests, and doctors, and attorneys, and phone calls, and…

But really, all of that is superfluous. Because when you fly over three lanes of traffic, the situation stinks no matter what details you add to the mix. At a certain point, details aren’t worth mentioning.

That’s not to say I haven’t kept track of the details. I’ve so far compiled 11 pages of details I’ll need to pursue my claims. The reality, though, is that memories and thoughts are like street signs. Bare, concise capsules of meaning. Snapshots.

STOP

YIELD

DON’T BE STUPID AT THE WHEEL AND FAIL TO CHECK FOR TRAFFIC
BEFORE DRIVING INTO AN INTERSECTION AND HITTING A CYCLIST

In retrospect, I’ll think of this event as “The Taxi Crash” or, more likely, just <thud>

***

On a brighter note, I tried to make zong zi with my grandma last week. Zong zi are packets of sticky rice wrapped in bamboo leaves, stuffed with mushrooms and slices of meat.

After watching my grandma make one, I boldly declared how easy it was and started to make my own.

I failed.

What they’re supposed to look like.

Below: What mine looked like.

You could call my grandma’s pretty, pointed, well crafted… and mine, flat and ugly. Really, though, details don’t matter here, because I ate both and all I could think was,

YUM

Advertisements

4 thoughts on “When details don’t matter

  1. 1) Looks like you survived the accident. Glad of that.
    2) Driver of orange taxi who hits future lawyer will probably wish he hadn’t!

  2. Pingback: Go Ahead, Whine. « The Full Montee

  3. Pingback: I quit. « The Full Montee

  4. Pingback: We’re breaking up. « The Full Montee

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s