Chevy Suburban — Blog — Life in the Tall lane

Life happens

Editor/kid #3/social media expert. This is all your fault!!

Early in my participation in the blog writing game, with light bulbs illuminating and all kinds of blog-related opportunities exploding in my mind, I asked my editor/daughter Alyssa about how often she thought I should post. I had no idea what her answer might be. Daily? Monthly?? Bi-annually??? And also no idea of the repercussions her answer would carry. She casually remarked something like “Oh, every week or so should be about right...” So, in my naive initial enthusiasm, I figured I would try to hold to that frequency and see what happened. I should have known something obvious—like life itself, would happen. I made it about 10 weeks before the overwhelming convergence of moving from our house of 23 years to a new, smaller town life, along with Christmas, family and all things holiday related brought many previously important parts of my life, including the blog, to a screeching halt. The ethereal and self-cleansing act of blog writing was moved to some distant back burner, only to be replaced by things more necessary—fixing up a new house, the odd ebb and flow of my work (which thankfully recently turned up several notches), trying to manage both my aging father’s and my own lives etc., etc.

Now I’m not sure how many people actually noticed that the lifeinthetalllane.com blog faucet, running at full force since the middle of October, abruptly shut off just before the double holiday whammy. But dry up it did, and not for the absence of water running through it. Maybe more like for the lack of an appropriate faucet. “Oh yeah, aren’t you that guy that wrote a few blogs back in late 2017?” Gone without a trace?! In fact, as of this writing one and only one person has asked me when I was going to post again. Fortunately this person, though a recent acquaintance, holds quite a bit of weight because she is a former English teacher. (You know who you are—the fact that you asked means a lot. Thanks for reading!)

In my hiatus, which has, truth be told, dragged on much longer than I thought it would, I have learned several things:

—Since it seems I’m doing this for me (and maybe one other person) I will do it when I choose and when the time required to post doesn’t destroy something of higher priority in my fairly complicated life. The weekly post regimen was a good exercise in blog discipline, but I’m not going to stress if I can’t publish on my given deadline day. I now know for the most part nobody else will stress either, and that's fine. Seems like almost every day there’s some tidbit of a situation that happens to me that could inspire a new blog entry out of my self acknowledged ADD'd out mind. I note those and keep them for future reference whenever possible. That’s not the problem.

--I’ve come to realize I’m somewhat torn as I go back and forth on what this thing should actually be: Is it a take on current affairs either in my life or more broadly? Maybe. Yeah I know I wrote about what I was thankful for around Thanksgiving—by the way, as of this writing the car is STILL not fixed...Or is it more of a mining exercise—digging the odd tidbits from the depths of my mind that someone hopefully might take an interest in. Realistically, probably a little of both.

**Hard to believe that this vehicle falls into the same class as the trusty Suburban. Turtle indeed!**

--Certainly the things that happen to me and that I think about form the fabric of this blog. I may eat my own words, but at this point I don’t plan to write directly about, for example, what Santa Claus might have brought me. (Unless he brings me something really cool like the Lamborghini SUV I recently saw at the Auto Show. The same Lamborghini that, when I texted a picture of to one of my daughters, then responded back that it looked like a turtle. That would be a zero to 60 mph in like 2.6 second turtle...)

So please bear with me as I fight for my sea legs in this (still new to me) attempted equilibrium of writing at least semi-regularly. I do find value and importance simply in the act of writing. The jotting down and writing of things that pop into my head is the easy part. That can and does happen any time, day or night thanks to the trusty iPhone, never far from my grasp. It’s putting it all into a presentable form so that someone other than me might actually make sense of it of all that holds me up. Although enjoyable and a great learning experience, it's a lot of work! Please stay tuned. I hope that even as I write about seemingly nothing that these words might have some meaning and connection for at least someone out there.

Sometimes things appear to be really nasty on the outside but on further inspection turn out to be not so bad, or maybe even lots better than that...so on this Thanksgiving weekend, something not so good that happened that I'm thankful for, followed by my top 10 reasons why all this was actually a good thing.

The Mooneys, Swigarts, Govigs and various fiance's and boyfriends on Fake Thanksgiving, less than an hour before the ill-ated incident.

Saturday night, November 18. It had either rained or semi-snowed all that day. By 8:00pm or so it was dark, but roads were no more than wet. I am in my Suburban, driving home from my sister-in-law's house after a day of what our family has come to call 'fake' Thanksgiving. 'Fake' in this case being no more than celebrating Thanksgiving on a day that is more convenient for all now mostly adult family members to attend easier than the actual Thursday of Thanksgiving. Everything else is Thanksgiving all the way--family, food, fellowship, fun and everything that goes along with all that. Along with me in the Suburban is someone familiar to regular readers of this blog, my youngest daughter Alyssa, her boyfriend Addison and our faithful dog Gryff. We had left Grand Ledge minutes earlier for the hour and a half or so trek home in a convoy of cars. My other two daughters and one fiance, my wife, mother-in-law, and brother-in-law Scott, all either driving or passengers in three other cars.

Most of the time my trusty Suburban is my mobile office, hauling me and all my considerable amount of equipment to whatever location I may need it. As you may know, my work is based on location television news and video production. As such it is configured mostly as a cargo vehicle, back seats folded down, third row seats stored safely away in the basement, shelving unit for all the gear in the big rear cavern. Room for me as a driver and a co-worker but that’s about it. On extremely rare occasions I do need to haul people in this behemoth of a vehicle. All the gear, the custom shelves, everything work related then comes out and the Suburban goes back to its more typical use of today, that of a soccer Mom vehicle. A capable hauler of quite a few people and all their stuff if necessary. This happened to be one of those rare occasions.

The clown car is dwarfed by the Suburban in every way possible. except well, maybe, gas mileage. But in this case I will take 16 mpg any day of the week!!

Assembling my immediate family completely these days is a logistical feat of some difficulty. One daughter, Betsy, in from Colorado, and the other two daughters coming home from Chicago. In this case, my oldest daughter Lindsey had rented a car and had actually been 'downgraded' to a smaller one because of availability. We joked that she had ended up in a 'clown car'. A Kia something or other. Economical transportation of course, but safe?

As we began our journey, I got myself settled in for the trip. Iphone plugged in, music playing...'Rock and roll all night' from Kiss Alive. There would soon be a kiss, but not in any way the gentle type you might expect. The dark Buick sedan came out of nowhere to my right, entering the corner of my field of vision at right a angle to the Suburban only a split second before impact. And what an impact it was! By this advanced age I unfortunately can say I have been in several car accidents, but none of them had even close to the severity of this one...a better word for it may be just plain..."crash." In every sense of the word. Alyssa screamed and the dog went flying. As we came to rest, I glanced around, made sure everyone was OK, and thought, "This car is going to be totaled".

I grabbed my phone, jumped out of the car dialing 911, adrenaline and the intensity of the crash making my mind race the equivalent of the Indy 500 in an instant. As I headed towards the back of the car, the logical place for the person that hit me should come to rest, there was no one. As I was telling the 911 operator that I believed I had been involved in a hit and run accident, a guy appeared from the adjacent parking lot to where we had stopped, telling me he'd seen the whole thing and that the other car had headed into a Menard's parking lot set back from the road. He also said that it looked like someone had followed the car there.

Main impact--directly behind the front wheel at the seam between the fender and door.  Fortunately for my passengers and I, probably one of the most sturdy parts of the car to run into.  Tire and wheel damage as well, but still held air an… — Main impact--directly behind the front wheel at the seam between the fender and door. Fortunately for my passengers and I, probably one of the most sturdy parts of the car to run into. Tire and wheel damage as well, but still held air and rolled fairly straight.

Turns out my bro-in-law Scott, driving along in our convoy, had seen everything and followed the guy to where he stopped. He did yeoman duty trying to get the guy to surrender his insurance info, but the guy resisted, saying he didn't have it with him, and despite Scott's best efforts he and the woman with him took off, their black Buick sedan severely damaged in the front from an impact with a Suburban where the big SUV clearly won the battle. When I finally assessed the damage on the Suburban, I was amazed. It had taken the main impact just behind the right front wheel, and the entire passenger side of the truck was dented and bruised, front to back. But amazingly after a parking lot trial run, driveable. Though the steering wheel now looked liked I was making a left turn all the time when going straight.

All these events, upon much reflection, have believe it or not, made me realize how fortunate I am that the things happened the way they did...In best Letterman fashion, here's my Top Ten list:

I'm thankful...

#10. That I have broad form collision insurance which pays for everything through the confusing haze of Michigan no fault insurance, even though this was a true hit and run.

#9. That there was a witness there for the responding Eaton County sheriff to talk to who reported the story simply as "the black car T-boned the Suburban."

#8. That the Suburban, as damaged it was, was able to transport us safely an hour and a half half back home.

#7. That the other guy, whoever he was, even though he hit me, was OK enough to drive away in his severely damaged car without surrendering any personal information or his proof of insurance. I don't know his circumstances but I suspect if the cops had talked to him it probably wouldn't have been good.

#6 That, after this incident, I was still able to use the Suburban in its damaged condition to work. (Even though the passenger side door doesn’t open)

#5. That I’m driving a Suburban, and I’m the one that got nailed.

#4. My daughter Lindsey was driving a 'clown car' and she’s NOT the one that got nailed.

#3. The rest of my family convoying with me in various other, much less substantial cars were NOT the ones that got nailed either.

#2. That if we had traveled 3 more feet forward and were hit, we would've had a door impact and not a fender impact...this could be quite a different story I'm telling. The matter of a fraction of a second. BOTH my passengers were sitting on that side of the car.

#1. And the most important #1 reason, (drum roll, please...) that this whole thing wasn’t worse than it was. No human or dog damage whatsoever. Truck damage? I'll take and happily deal with it.

On this Thanksgiving weekend, I say thank you. Thank you God, if you are watching over me and those I Iove, you've taught me a lesson. Thank you Chevrolet, for allowing me to drive a vehicle that protects me and the others with me, and 'takes a licking and keeps on ticking'. I hope the therapeutic value that I get from relaying all this will not be wasted, and that someone reading these rambling words may be able to see that there is indeed a silver lining to many nasty things. A belated Happy Thanksgiving!