A stag party.

I was driving home tonight from band practice. A train was passing between Jean Road and the freeway, so I turned right instead of left and took the scenic route home. Listening to OPB, some good indie-pop, timing the lights just right, enjoying the change. The change? A stress-free practice, a worry-free evening. Not that things are different. What's different? Things, they aren't. There are fewer dollars in my bank account today than yesterday, fewer then than the day before that. I haven't been exercising enough to drop the pounds I hate, not eating enough vegetables. But I've been getting used to my life. I'm used to it. I'm almost used to it. My problems are pretty insignificant. People have worse problems. I can live with this. Where was I? Right, the right turn.

The train didn't look like it would end at all soon, so I turned right. I embraced the scenic route, embraced it. Zoomed along down the road, up a hill, down a hill. The music was relaxing, the moonlight was relaxing, the acceptance was very relaxing. There were taillights ahead, brakelights, so I slowed, but the brakelights disappeared and the car sped up. And behind the car an enormous deer, a buck, began to lumber across the road in front of me. I jammed down on the brake, pushed in the clutch, stopped the car. The buck hesitated, looked at me with one eye, and bolted across the rest of the road and into the woods. My god, that animal was big, I thought. I imagined my car cutting out his legs, his bulk crashing through my windshield. He was beautiful. It only lasted a few seconds, but it was fantastic.

Headlights were approaching in my rearview mirror, so I shoved it into first and rolled slowly on down the road. My heart was pounding and my hands were trembling. They trembled for a few more minutes, a few more miles, until I got off the interstate at Water St. I turned south to Clay and took a left, only to be stopped again. The crossing gate was down and the lights were flashing — there was a train passing. I waited it out.

What was the meaning of all this? Well, maybe God doesn't like us to get complacent. I don't believe in God; it's an expression.