Wondering if Northwest Airlines needs Pilots

The day I almost died was a blurry gray day in October. The rain had been consistently inconsistent for what seemed like weeks, lulling all of St. Louis into the doldrums. I was leaving work a little bit early to get my shoulder worked on by my massage therapist Mister Tom “Magic Hands” Burr. As I drove, I was checking in with my mom and dad who were golfing in Vegas as I pulled out of work. So while chuckling at my mom tell me to “whisper” while my dad was swinging his golf club five or so states away… (Really?...is the iPhone that loud from my end?)… I was momentarily transported to another place in time. A warmer place. A drier place.

Maybe that dry place stayed with me well after my phone was off, when my hands were firmly at 10 and 2 on the steering wheel, and my eyes were fixed directly on the road in front of me as I rounded the bend from Page onto 270S. I must have been going too fast, but it was in super slow-mo, I began to realize that I was out of control. I instinctively knew that when you are out of control in a car you are not supposed to touch the steering wheel definitively and you are supposed to slam on the gas.

So naturally I jerked the wheel to the right and slammed on the brake.

As my life slid before my eyes I realized that I had a good life and I wondered also if I was going to do a 360, then when I realized I wasn’t going to do a 360, I took a few additional neuron fires to decide what level of spin in terms of degrees was worth re-telling if I got out of this alive. I think I did a decisive 90, twice, back AND forth.. so does that count as terrible and grand 180? No. I think perhaps not. I was still thinking of the things people would say about me at my funeral when my car came to a muddy anti-climactic rocking on the edge of the ramp. My rear-wheel drive Lincoln was a see-saw on a fulcrum of asphalt. I was fine.

Or was I? I was quite shaken. I then realized I didn’t have my seat belt on AND that I so forgot to sing the Carrie Underwood song. God was waking me up or something. I dunno. Anyway, I sat there glad to be still thinking thoughts and no cars came after me and I wasn’t in the way. I sat for many moments doing that thing I do in Target sometimes … “spinning”. Ohh lets uhm.. call this person.. or these people or no.. that’s dumb… uh ooh should I move? Wha…. Er… Uh? Ooh…Sparkly…and on SALE”

I realized then that death may not have come yet but still very much could if that faint smell I smelled was gas, and if it was indeed pouring out in a puddle beneath me, maybe I would soon be barbecued. Er. Uhm. No. That’s not gas, silly, and it’s wet outside anyway, just try to drive out, the car is fine. So I tried, but no wheels were touching anything else, problematic. I also then realized that if an 18 wheeler decided to do the same thing and go around that curve, it could jackknife into me. I deeply disappointed myself at my lack of snappy ideas. For a brief moment I thought that this was my wilderness test. That I could probably survive the wilderness on my resourcefulness, but at the on ramp to 270 in the middle of civilization, with my cell phone and the world-wide web at my fingertips, I was utterly useless.

Except I tucked my work pants into my boots so they wouldn’t get muddy. Good work, Linz.

I thought to stand way behind my car in case something big pushed it toward me. Wondering how I get a tow truck.. did I NEED a tow truck? Was my car beyond repair? Was it even broken? Who makes these assessments anyway? Good thing I’m not a Triage Nurse. (“Ooo.. Sparkly”) I thought to call my parents who I’d JUST been on the phone with… but no answer. Golf is happening. Why don’t I have triple A? Well my dad had the reason why once, maybe I call him again... he’s not answering. Er.. can’t I just drive the car away?? How hard can it be? Get back in the car, it’s raining. My undercarriage is sitting on asphalt, can’t be good. I get back out of the car. A guy drives by and asks me if I’m ok and I shrug over-dramatically. He pulls over and was trying to be helpful, but told me I was hung up. Thanks. He asked if I was going to be ok and I said yeah I have a phone. I eventually called someone near a computer who could flag me a tow truck. This isn’t hard.

Why do I explain this is such great detail? Because it could be on You Tube and I wanted to give you the mental script.

Because I finally got out when the Maryland Heights Police Car and the MoDot truck showed up almost simultaneously, and informed me that they “saw me on the video cameras”. The what?

They have cameras set up to look at dumb people I guess.

They were kind and not condescending. They stopped traffic so MoDot could pull me out backwards. I didn’t need a tow after all. Just stand around with your pants tucked into your boots and wander like an escaped mental patient and the authorities WILL show up.

And that’s how Lindsey does it on a Monday.

Peace