I was on my way downtown on the highway. It was snowing over a thin layer of patchy ice. I was doing just fine but traffic was getting slow in my lane. I turned to look over my right shoulder for a lane change, apparently at the same time traffic suddenly slowed down in my lane. I turned back around, hit the brakes and slid. BOOM! I was probably going about 35 mph.
My fifteen-year-old Bonneville nailed his not-so-old Dodge Ram truck. Fenders bent. My grill and headlight broke. That's all. My muscle car is solid. His truck is pretty good. We're both unhurt. Yesterday, my insurance agent called to see if we wanted to drop collision from our policy on this car. I said I would talk to Abe about it first. Abe said yes but I hadn't called it in yet. Life is good.
The Bonneville was supposed to be Ben's birthday present last year. If you've been following my blog, you know why he doesn't have it. I'm supposed to be driving Abe's car now, but his brand new company car literally went up in flames on the ship in the middle of the Pacific. He'll get another in April. Then I will get his minivan, which I will promptly sell because I am not nor will I ever be a willing owner of a minivan. I managed to raise two kids without one; no way am I getting one now.
And here I've been wondering what to blog about.