My own personal Darwin award...

Today, I almost became the subject of one of those Darwin Award emails where the author of the awards delights in the novel and amusing ways in which imbeciles and the mentally weak manage to get themselves killed. The sort of emails that always end with a smug quip such as, "thank God that moron is no longer swimming in the gene pool". Well, first, I have news for you people, even if I manage to get myself bumped off in a freak toothpick accident or meet my maker at the hands of a small electrical applicance, I have managed to procreate, so the joke's on you because my wacky genes are guaranteed for at least another generation SO THERE. Which brings me to my near death experience.

I have long known that under different circumstances, my Mother would have been an adept assassin for hire. However, it wasn't until my mother got her first SUV that she really came into her own. It was at this point that all her personality peccadillos converged into sharp focus. I suppose that it surprised us all that when she got what I like to call "the instrument of death", my mother discovered her true trucker self. Leaving aside the fact that as an owner of an SUV, my mother has the carbon footprint of a T-Rex, it is undeniable that she has taken on a sort of larger than life SUV persona like when she steps into the SUV, she is KING OF THE WORLD. My mom readily admits to the rush of power she feels behind the wheel of 600 tonnes of Detroit steel, so at least she admits she has a problem and that is the first stage to recovery. However, that being said, she hasn't really shown any real signs of moving on to whatever step two is (begging forgiveness? making amends? checking into the Betty Ford?...really people, does anyone know what comes after step one?). She also now refers to pedestrians and drivers of small (read: normal) sized vehicles as nuisances, not to be tolerated but to be squashed like the bugs that they are. The carmakers also have their part to play in this little drama as the enablers of all time. Every new model they cook up some new fangled gadgetry that really just ends up making the SUV more threatening than before. Take the reverse alarm in my mother's newest SUV. Because the SUV is so ridiculously oversized, the car makers finally realizing that instead of letting armies of megalomaniac moms and the similarly oversized vehicularly endowed run over curbs, posts and anyone under six foot because they can't see a freakin' thing out the back of the vehicle, they will placate their consciences by installing a little alarm that will warn drivers of these instruments of death that they are about to squash someone. All this means is that my mother now reverses staring straight ahead as the little alarm will no doubt let her know if there is anything to be worried about.

Now, where was I? Of course, my near death experience. Many of you will likely not believe what I am about to relate because in a city of over five million people and thousands of kilometres of roads, the events that I am about to describe would require an unbelievable confluence of circumstances. The sort of circumstances that could be thrown off by the slightest inteference - a left instead of a right, missing the elevator, deciding to go to the bathroom before leaving the office, returning for a forgotten item. In this case, the planets were perfectly aligned and if I hadn't lived it, I wouldn't believe it myself. I swear that (more of less) every word of what I tell you is true, save embellishments and pointless digressions.

Which brings me to the non-event of my near death. I was crossing the street to go to the bank around lunch time today. As I was crossing the street out of the corner of my eye I registered a car had misjudged the light. As the light turned red for the car, it turned green for those of us waiting to cross and simultaneously, I stepped off the curb as the car, frantic to correct its error in judgment, attempted to charge through the pedestrians. Of course, like any God fearing Toronto pedestrian, I KNOW MY GODDAMNED RIGHTS and those rights include crossing on a green no matter what is coming in the opposite direction. If anyone tried to interfere with my pedestrian rights, they were in for a look of death, likely a finger waggle, possibly a full arm gesture and, if I am feeling unusually nervy, a cuss word or two. In this case, I turned to unleash any combination of finger, arm waving and/or cuss word when I found myself staring right into the eyes of my Mother. I would love to say that she was grim, determined, possibly even apologetic looking but instead, I saw what I can only interpret as the face of a woman at peace with the world. So, while I was within a hair's breadth of becoming a stupid, infinitely forwarded, joke email, my mother had achieved SUV nirvana. The best bit is that while I slinked off, head hung low so that no one would notice me, a rather confident and bossy pedestrian took it upon himself to hold up the pedestrian traffic so that my mother could pass. As I hustled away from the melee, presided over by the Good Samaritan Pedestrian, I heard him mutter something about stupidity and gas guzzlers.

I of course quickly called my mother to confirm that what I thought had just happened had actually just happened and I am pleased to announce that my state of shock and near-death experience was of no interest whatsoever to my mother, however, she did express great concern that I not tell anyone in the family about the "incident" and of course, I am keeping my promise...