Hey, Thursday, I’m just borrowing the title of your hit song to coincide with my post. It’s banking off the idea, but I’ve always respected you as a band. For those not knowing the song:
On Saturday, the plan was to have an updated post, but it didn’t happen due to having fun. Yes, having fun happens from time to time, and it has to be appreciated away from the computer. Sunday was going to be the day to update, the day to get my Syracuse New Times post for today’s The Inevitable Coffee Ring, and it was going to be the day to see my gal. The first two did not happen, but I’m grateful for the third.
And eating a delicious T-Bone steak did not happen at Sunday dinner with the folks, because the T-bone came a little early in the day:
The intersection where the accident took place now has a blinking red light. It’s not certain if the blinking red is a temporary or permanent thing, but it should go back to the way it was. And this is where paying attention is absolutely stressed.
Speeding up, hitting the petal was the reaction and it probably saved me from who-knows-what. The sound of the explosion of car-on-car action was scary enough. The whiplash and tension felt the past couple days was enough stress on my body, and I’m finally comfortable to go for a run. Yeah, everyone involved got lucky, and everyone is safe.
About the Post
I did crack the joke about the new hubcaps, because those never want to stay on my car. While sitting there, as the sirens of various emergency vehicles arrived, the contemplation of which accompanying song did come through my head. Would it be a melodic instrumental? Most likely. It wouldn’t be some dumb metal band that will act as a cliche to go along with destruction.
After sitting on ideas for the SNT update, this stuck with me as much as not wanting to write about it. There is no name calling or pointing fingers. I did come to a full stop, and there was trust the other person, who seemed to come from nowhere, was going to stop. A police officer was at that same light, coming from that direction; if this person arrived sooner, would they have crashed into the police car? Possibly.
The title of the post is “Pulling a 181.” Why? I was facing the opposite direction, which is essentially a 180-degree turn. It may have been slightly more, which lead me to say 181. The 181 number also parallels Syracuse’s highway system: Route I-81. There is a definite issue with that decision and course of action that will change the traffic scheme around Central New York. Since this accident is a traffic issue, it was decided to play off of that in the quasi-satirical sense.
With the traffic downtown, refurbishing the streets, it’s a pain in the ass to drive through and walk through. Since so much fun activity went on this weekend (see post), Syracuse, despite construction, lived up to be a walkable city. You need transportation, bus or taxi or car, to actually get to Downtown Syracuse, however. No subway or train, folks.
When walking, you usually come back to where you started (usually your car or apartment, if applicable). If you’re on lunch, you have to return to work. Music always has a refrain. The music heard Downtown on Saturday evening was easy walking music, music — “Bistro Fada” — that Owen Wilson unknowingly walked around to in Midnight in Paris, and this is to emphasize Syracuse being easy to roam. It also ties back to my talking about post-accident music for a comedy. In Midnight in Paris, Wilson’s character meets Luis Buñuel, a surrealist and filmmaker. Like any great filmmaker, there is symbolism and constant reference or an ongoing pattern. In his The Exterminating Angel, sheep are brought into the equation.
The post is heavy with allusions and references, which is typical. It’s blatantly mentioned that the post circles back around again.
So here is the post: Pulling a 181
music Syracuse Syracuse New TImes The Inevitable Coffee Ring writing 180 degrees Bistro Fada car accident Luis Bunuel Midnight In Paris music process Syracuse Syracuse New Times The Inevitable Coffee Ring writing
I play with words and invisible objects.
A mind, a pen and a piece paper have the best relationship ever.
"Remember this--if you shut your mouth, you have your choice."
- F. Scott Fitzgerald