Anti-Blog Brakes
Relationships Need Anti-Blog Brakes
“When your life has hit the skids / wave goodbye to the wife and kids / I’m ready to move in to a perfect world!” ~~ Guttermouth
So I was racing to work, a bit late as usual, and I swerved into the parking lot, which was covered with ice and shit.
Not that it was literally covered with shit, mind you. That was a euphemism for “all the funky brown sludgy crap that a snowfall leaves in a parking lot.”
Regardless, it was all slick and crazy, and I slammed on my brakes. Now, if you don’t already know, I drive a sleek, powerful, genuine (pronounced, “Jen-you-wine”) American muscle car. Yep, my station wagon is equipped with all the modern amenities, like “radio” and “power windows.” Included in this bundle of joy was the “anti-lock brake” feature, which means I no longer have to pump my brakes to stop on slick surfaces. Thanks to the miracle of modern automobile engineering, all I had to do was grip the wheel tightly, slam my foot on the brake pedal and stare in petrified horror as my car jerked toward a brick wall.
But at least it made that comforting grinding noise.
Between the moment when impact seemed inevitable and the moment when I realized the car stopped mere millimeters from the wall, I had the sort of pseudo-life-flashing-before-your-eyes phenomenon that accompanies half-assed near-death experiences.
I use far too many dashes in my writing.
In that instant, my mind hacked up random memories of family, friends, loved ones, and … with a flourish of sinister organ music … ex-girlfriends -- who were once loved ones but are now ignored ones.
And that got me thinking. Relationships, like cars, should be equipped with anti-lock brakes. Because when things get icy, humans should NOT be responsible.
Before you cast this off as a cheesy analogy, consider this: when a relationship goes down hill, things can get slippery. Downhill + slippery = hurt. Just ask my ass.
When a relationship spins out of control, people start frantically pumping the brakes – or, to apply a more accurate pun, the breaks.
They take breaks, break down, break up. They call up, hang up, hook up. They wind up choked up and ground down.
Life hits the skids … and then what? Either things smooth out or everything comes to a crashing halt.
Ah, but if only those of us who construct relationships were as clever as those automobile engineers. We could make a device that would enable us, a moment of panic, to clamp down, seize up and hope that – a few grinding gears aside – the end will come another day.
Peace and love,
Nas-T
“When your life has hit the skids / wave goodbye to the wife and kids / I’m ready to move in to a perfect world!” ~~ Guttermouth
So I was racing to work, a bit late as usual, and I swerved into the parking lot, which was covered with ice and shit.
Not that it was literally covered with shit, mind you. That was a euphemism for “all the funky brown sludgy crap that a snowfall leaves in a parking lot.”
Regardless, it was all slick and crazy, and I slammed on my brakes. Now, if you don’t already know, I drive a sleek, powerful, genuine (pronounced, “Jen-you-wine”) American muscle car. Yep, my station wagon is equipped with all the modern amenities, like “radio” and “power windows.” Included in this bundle of joy was the “anti-lock brake” feature, which means I no longer have to pump my brakes to stop on slick surfaces. Thanks to the miracle of modern automobile engineering, all I had to do was grip the wheel tightly, slam my foot on the brake pedal and stare in petrified horror as my car jerked toward a brick wall.
But at least it made that comforting grinding noise.
Between the moment when impact seemed inevitable and the moment when I realized the car stopped mere millimeters from the wall, I had the sort of pseudo-life-flashing-before-your-eyes phenomenon that accompanies half-assed near-death experiences.
I use far too many dashes in my writing.
In that instant, my mind hacked up random memories of family, friends, loved ones, and … with a flourish of sinister organ music … ex-girlfriends -- who were once loved ones but are now ignored ones.
And that got me thinking. Relationships, like cars, should be equipped with anti-lock brakes. Because when things get icy, humans should NOT be responsible.
Before you cast this off as a cheesy analogy, consider this: when a relationship goes down hill, things can get slippery. Downhill + slippery = hurt. Just ask my ass.
When a relationship spins out of control, people start frantically pumping the brakes – or, to apply a more accurate pun, the breaks.
They take breaks, break down, break up. They call up, hang up, hook up. They wind up choked up and ground down.
Life hits the skids … and then what? Either things smooth out or everything comes to a crashing halt.
Ah, but if only those of us who construct relationships were as clever as those automobile engineers. We could make a device that would enable us, a moment of panic, to clamp down, seize up and hope that – a few grinding gears aside – the end will come another day.
Peace and love,
Nas-T
posted by Sketch E. at 12:53 AM
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