Mortality

I'd like to introduce you to the other lady in my life. Her name is Soph; she's beautiful, poised, petite, Japanese and has recently turned 5 years old.

Now before you all run to check if I'm on the sex offender's register in your area, I am, of course, talking about my car. I'm seldom happier than on a quiet, twisty road on a sunny day with the roof down. Put us on a track and I'm happier again. Like most people, I think I am a decent driver - good car control, awareness, and I'm quite selective with when I choose to floor it to make sure I stay safe. But a couple of things have happened recently.

Firstly, earlier this year I was in the car with my Dad on a country road when at a blind summit, I come across a big Merc in the middle of the road heading the other way. Without going into detail, I think I handled it fairly well, but I expect I was closer to flipping the car than I care to admit. My Dad survives a vicious, rare cancer, and I nearly finish him off in the car.

Secondly, on Friday night I was driving home alone in extremely heavy rain. Someone stepped out in front of me (typically with their iPod on & not looking), promptly skid-marked their pants & stepped back. By this point I had reacted & was snaking up the road, struggling to regain control. Ultimately, I ran out of talent & ended up facing the wrong way, parked in the central reservation with no damage other than kerb marks on one of my alloys. Fortunately it was quiet; I turned the car around & wound down the window to talk to the girl who was, I think, more shaken than me. Still, no harm done, so I carried on.

And then, a few hundred yards up the road, it hit me. Not a truck; but a moment of absolute clarity & certainty.

I am going to die in a car.

I think I've always felt almost invincible. I've been nicknamed "Deathwish" on a couple of separate skiing holidays, not because I ski like 18 year olds drive their pimped Corsas, but because I go for it & ski without fear - If I fall, I bounce; my skis come off, I slide on for a bit and usually end up at the bottom of the slope in a fit of giggles. But recently, I've started to change... maybe it's just getting old, maybe it's because I now have responsibilities towards people other than myself, or maybe it's because I was wearing brown socks & you had chosen to read this blog for the first time that day. Who knows, but then, there, the method of my demise was burned into my mind; it's always there, almost like a memory.

I'm not claiming some sort of mystical connection or vision. My fleeting passenger was not the ghost of Christmas future, or a tall guy wearing black & carrying a scythe (those of you who have seen my car will know the scythe would never fit in). It was probably just the law of probability turning it's wheels in my head, and spitting out a likely scenario - a lot has changed in the last couple of years, and I think in many ways, I'm struggling to catch up.

In the last two years I have (in no particular order): acquired a mortgage, got married, found the first few silver hairs, put on a few pounds, memorised the layout of B&Q, seriously contemplated the prospect of a family, gained an appreciation of power tools, worried about the amount I drink, and trimmed my nasal hair for the first time. I wonder how I will feel when I go skiing in January.

Between now & then, I'll be driving more carefully.