my first accident / my first ticket

lets start with my first ticket. well, lets start with learning how to drive. i started learning how to drive when i was 13 or 14, after my parents had gotten divorced and all the nightmares associated with that. i had already had a poorer childhood, and this was something that i didnt really need. i had a very low self esteem and was devoid of confidence. i was a fat kid and my brother was very popular. i lived in his shadow. for better or worse.

the worse part was that he and his friends constantly made fun of me, put me down, and generally gave me no reason to think about having confidence in myself. it was a lost cause. the for better part is that my home being recently broken i had a lack of role models. i guess i had that lack before the broken home.

so my brother, with all his faults, taught me the ropes of life. he taught me things like how to shave, how to tight roll my pants, how to party, and how to drive. i dont know where he learned these things. i love my father and mother, but i dont think they taught me these things so i dont have any reason to believe they taught him. to me he just knew, and that was that.

so, back to being 14 years old. we lived a fair distance from the school we went to, and for the most part i took the bus. my brother, 2 years older, could drive, had a license and a car. a 1988 dodge diplomat with an 8 track player if i recall correctly. the car was a beast. i remember things like riding home with him and his friends and driving as fast as the car could through streets shielded by cornfields, i remember him driving a cyclist off the road, and other stupid things you do when you are in a big old car and barely know how to drive.

so, rightfully, i was terrified of driving. i had no confidence in myself and my constant recent experience is crazy driving. when, driving home from school one day my brother pulled over and announced that i would have to drive the rest of the way i naturally declined. a probably started crying. he insisted that we wouldnt move unless it was with me behind the wheel and eventually i gave in.

i thought about walking home and maybe threatened it, but with my sense of direction at the time i would probably be lost in the cornfields in minutes and never be seen again. so, behind the wheel i got. i dont remember if other people were in the car, but there probably were others. after catching the basics, i had to do something. with my foot firmly on the brake i shifted to drive. ever so slowly i released the pressure on the brake.

and we were off. we were cruising! well, actually idling, but whatever. i was driving. then disaster struck, another car was advancing from the front. terrified, and not knowing what to do i slammed on the brake and waiting for the car to pass lest i ram into it at an idle. after the danger subsided we were off again. i think this time i even pushed a bit on the gas pedal.

but, again, disaster. only this time from the rear. i could just stop any longer, so i panicked. i pulled over to the side of the road and parked, the car passed. and at a stop i gave up. i wouldnt drive another inch. i believe we made it about 100 feet in that first driving experience, but that is all i remember of learning how to drive. after that i guess i could just do it.

so, that was long winded. let me keep going. we were starting with my first ticket. and, like my first accident, i didnt really even get a ticket. i just got pulled over, theres a story.

sometime between 13 and 15 life for me changed dramatically. in the divorce my brother, sister and i all stayed living with my dad in the house that we grew up in. statistically that is an anomaly. usually the wife gets the house and the kids. because of that i have since had a stronger relationship with my dad than my mom. but the twists keep coming. my dad met a lady on the job and about a month later they were married. crazy, i know. but, the gods shined down brightly and they are still together, happily married as far as i can tell.

with that marriage, we also moved out of the house we grew up in, into the house of my dads new wife. another strange thing statistically. i was very unhappy about it at the time, but eventually i came to see the light and the opportunity in this. i think after living at the new house for only a couple of months my brother, now 17, moved out on his own. i got a huge upstairs bedroom all to myself where i could sulk my life away.

again, i dont know how i actually ended up learning how to drive, but by this time i was a confident driver. i just wasnt old enough to drive yet. so, i did what any angsty kid being moved around and having a number of life eruptions in a short amount time would do. i stole my stepmoms car. repeatedly.

almost every night i would sneak (i considered it sneaky, looking back there is no way they couldnt have known) out of the house. there was a computer in the basement of the house and i would just be sitting on it at night, waiting for everyone else to fall asleep, then i would walk upstairs and fish my stepmoms keys from her purse, then go back to the basement to wait a little while longer. after i was convinced nothing was amiss, i would open the basement door and go outside. then i would use the garage door opener to open the garage and wait.

these periods of waiting were me waiting to be caught. giving anyone that might be paying attention a chance to say "AHA!" but no one ever did. so, i started the car and backed out. by now it was generally after midnight, and being 15 i had nowhere to go, so i just drove around. i learned the streets around my house and each night would venture further and further. eventually i was driving from my new house back to my old house and points in between. most usually i would simply go to crown point indiana and drive around the square for a bit.

now, as i have said, i was 15, so i had no license, and i had a state assigned curfew. i was breaking the law, and i didnt give a shit. i reveled in it. part of my new identity was to be a bit of a bad boy, to be unique and do things to set myself apart from the crowds around me. i felt i was doing a good job.

this went on for awhile. i had a great routine down and would literally do this 3-4 nights a week. it was just part of my schedule. i was slowly building confidence. but eventually i had to burst, the bubble had to break.

i was driving towards crown point one night and feeling just as fine as any other time. no real thing to do, but for some reason i was very happy. i was driving down main street, just near the city tank, and then all of a sudden i got a real bad feeling. got some reason i knew that i had to turn around and go back home, something bad was going to happen. the street being empty i whipped a u-turn and headed the other way. then i saw from behind me something i had never imagined. flashing red and blue lights.

i want to say that i panicked, but i didnt. not at all. maybe on the inside, but no outward show of panic. i pulled to the side of the road and parked. i ran through my head the options i had, but i was certain that my dad would be called and my joyrides would be discovered and forever ended. i waited for a few moments while the cop ran my license plate, then i saw him get out of the car and walk up to me, maglight and all. it was the real thing.

the officer asked me for my license and registration. license and registration. what? do i even know what a registration is? i fiddled around in the glove compartment and handed him a mess of things. from them he fished out the registration, perused it and handed it back. then he repeated: license.

i explained to the officer that i had forgotten my license at home. i told him that i had recently gotten my license and my parents had bought me a new wallet to put my license in. i went on to tell him that i had just realized that i didnt have it so i panicked a bit and pulled a u-turn to head back to the house and retrieve it. i told this story as if it were the truest thing ever.

and the officer looked at me, put his arm on the door and told me that i should head straight home and get my license. that i should never leave home without it again. however, he said that he couldnt let me walk away thinking i had beaten the law. so he took my name and address and wrote me a warning. after accepting it, he walked off and i drove away. i went straight home and parked the car. i closed the garage and went in the basement. i sat back in front of the computer like i had never left. i looked at the ticket and thought about how lucky i was.

i dont recall taking that car again until after i had my license. that close call was enough. my very first ticket. so far on this trip, i have also gotten one ticket...thats actually what prompted this. i got a parking ticket in ocean beach san diego, because i failed to move my truck for the street sweepers that come down the block twice a week. the ticket was for $40. i debated about not paying it, but ended up paying online before i left.

so, now that we are through that story. lets talk about my first accident. because, yes, i have been in an accident on this trip already. something that i had forgotten about after it happened, but then remembered and decided to tie it all in with my ticket and other things.

and, again, like my first ticket, my first accident isnt really me getting into one, but being involved in one. so, i guess i am 16 now. i am almost like a real person, i have a drivers license but no car. i am at a new school and am starting to make real friends. some of the people include: shannon jones, alex labounty, and some girl named laura. i wish i could remember her last name, because i still carry around an artifact from her wherever i go.

actually wherever i have been since i was 16, i have taken this artifact with. dallas, new york, cross country to pal, desert, indiana, olympia, san francisco, down the coast to santa barbara, back to indiana, portland. i think when i was traveling and being an activist i left it in portland, but it is with me again. it is a little brown box that has a slide out lid, the top of the lid says "relic." i call it my relic box and keep various relics from my past in there. as well as my nail clippers and up until recently my large sewing needle. it is really all purpose.

when she gave it to me, we were in her house, probably high, and i was desperately trying to make out with her. i had no clue how to, having never made out with anyone prior. i am sure that i employed the rough play hoping that our bodies would fall into a perfect place so that there would be no choice other than to lock lips and engage in a furious session of making out. but that never happened. we probably just talked for awhile, sitting on her bed, me being awkward trying to plan my next move, and not getting anywhere with it.

i am sure she could tell that i wanted something from her, so she rustled around a bit on her dresser, grabbed this box, emptied it out and gave it to me. she said it was a relic of her, something so that i would never forget her. and she was right, it is something that allows me never to forget her. i still remember exactly where she lived in griffith indiana, and when i was younger and visiting i would drive by there and think about seeing where she was. i remember that, but i cannot remember her last name.

so, she had a car, and she drove. she would pick me up for school sometimes. i had a huge crush on her. i think she was a little bit older, she was about 5' 7" she had her striking red hair cut into a bob and he was a little hippie chick. just what i wanted at the time. i fancied myself a little hippie boy, but was consciously transitioning out of that into something more in the current time, something that was more alive and i could be a part of, and something that made me more unique and mysterious. my favorite band at the time was half japanese. and i am rambling.

so, for whatever reason, we were driving together down main street towards columbia avenue. i dont know why we were going in that direction, where we were heading, or anything more about the day. we were having a conversation about something, not paying the closest attention to the road, but certainly knowing the color of the lights. we were headed northbound on main street and turning left onto columbia when all of a sudden i see a car headed eastbound on columbia driving through the stoplight and right into us.

without thinking i unbuckled my seatbelt and leapt across the seats to cover laura. the car was coming to hit her directly, right in the driver side door, and while i am sure that my act of selflessness didnt do much to prevent damage to her body, it was instinct. something that i got from growing up, that it was my duty to protect the people i loved.

when all came to my body was draped across hers, the driver side door was smashed in and all traffic around us was stopped. sirens were in the distance, and we were both conscious. things seemed like they would be alright. the car itself was totaled. the oncoming car had hit us just in front of the driver side door, mostly getting the engine and hood area. we were removed from the car and questioned. i remember laura being a wreck. she thought it was her fault and was apologizing profusely. i was calm and just amazed at being in my first accident ever.

the cars were towed away, people came to get us and we parted ways. i had assumed that this type of incident would be the thing to bring people closer together, but for whatever reason it drove a wedge between us, polarized our relationship and nothing was the same again. maybe she felt how much i cared for her and wasnt prepared for that, or didnt feel the same way and instead of letting me down, just let me off. i was devastated for awhile. i remember telling my brother about it and him threatening her, telling her that she cannot treat me this way, just sticking up for me overall.

it was a bit over the top, but he was my brother and he was looking out for me. that relic box that i carry with me reminds me of so many things, it reminds me of laura, my first car accident, and how much my brother cares about me. regardless of anything that he had put me through in the past or anything that would happen in the future, i knew that he loved me and was looking out for me. and it is something that i try never to forget. a relic that keep with me, that goes wherever i go, and is also close at hand.

after that, i am afraid that my first accident on this trip is a bit of a letdown. thats probably why i forgot about it so quickly. it occurred almost a month ago when i was visiting the zombie town of fort ord. after walking around through there i got spooked pretty good and found myself running from the interior back toward the exit. i got into my truck very quickly, heart pounding and kicked the truck into reverse. i was driving backwards along the fence and i thought i saw something, a face, a body, something, in one of the broken out windows and i swerved.

i swerved right into the zombie fence and knocked it over. i stopped and cursed for a bit. looked around to see no one in sight, pulled back out onto the road and got my truck straightened out. i got out and inspected for damage to my truck. i was satisfied that there wasnt any and drove away.

hopefully i dont get into any accident more serious on these travels.