Today is a truly awful day. I wish I hadn't woken up this morning, really. A lot of nice things have happened since my last post, but not today.
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So, Christmas Day. While I'd have loved to see my family on this Most Blessed of Occassions, it simply wasn't in the cards this year. Carey and I woke up mid-morning and exchanged gifts. We also opened the remainder of the Holiday parcels that our loved ones had Amazon.com-ed to us and, thanks in no small part to our Amazon wish lists, the day was very merry indeed. Christmas also happens to be our cat, Gilbert's, birthday (with our other cat, Calliope's, birthday a few days later), so we indulged the little maniacs with toys and treats, much to their delight.

Although I felt a little awkward about it at first, we decided to take our friends, the Browns, up on their invitation to spend Christmas dinner with them. I'm very glad we did, because it gave us the opportunity to eat a very delicious Christmas meal and enjoy the company of some truly wonderful Christmas friends. Somehow, during the course of the dinner, the subject of this Blogger was broached and I found myself promising to mention everyone at the table and our table conversations somewhere in my next post. Well... frankly, I can't remember every detail, so I'm afraid that's going to be an impossibility. Suffice it to say, however, it was a very good time.

In the evening, I called my sisters to extend a Holiday greeting or two. Apparently my family had barely survived the Christmas From Hell back home. Mom was sick with a virus, sicker than she'd been in years. I'm told there was a lot of throwing up. (Sorry, Mom.) Needless to say, no one but her husband, Bill saw her all day. The day was also punctuated by a very violent blizzard, which inhibited any and all travel for my wife's family. The same should have been true for my own, but... Dad hit an ice slick on the way home from his lady-friend's house and smashed up his car quite badly. Totalled, according to a police officer who swooped onto the scene. Later on, my sister Erin and her husband had a similar accident in their own car. Not quite as damaging, but an accident nonetheless. Hoofah! Sister Lauren fortunately avoided auto mishaps, but was sadly forced to spend Christmas apart from her finacee. Christmas 2002 was marked by sickness, tragedy and alienation for the Bear family. Fortunately, there were a lot of very nice gifts to make up for it, I guess.

And, in honor of Mr. Bob Cratchett, I found myself working a few hours on Christmas Day. I couldn't believe it myself. Perils of having one's own business, I suppose.
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The rest of the week was somewhat lazy. Worked a little, slept a little. Got way behind on a few things.
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Friday night was the Virginia Country Club Staff Christmas Party, the place where my dear wife spends her days. A pretty good time and I must admit that Carey works with some very fascinating people. Also, I don't think I'd ever realized exactly how popular she really is. Everyone loves her and everyone wants her attention. I felt very much like the Prom Queen's boyfriend-from-another-school. As she flitted around, I rode her coattails and met many of the people I hear her talk about at the end of every day.

Now, let me just say that I've always taken a certain degree of pride in the fact that, while I enjoy a social drink as much as the next guy, I've never been drunk. I have this weird alcohol thing where the minute I can begin to feel alcohol's influence in my body, I stop because it becomes distasteful to me. It's nothing moral or even responsible, really, it's simply how my body reacts.

Well, Carey swears up and down that, indeed, I was drunk at her company's party. I disagree. I had nothing that even slightly resembled a hangover the next day and my recollection of the evening is crystal-clear. I must admit, however, a marked lack of inhibition and a few basic motor functions (like dancing), so I guess she may possibly have a point. In the end, though, what is drunk? I'm certain I'd have passed a breathalizer with flying colors. I'm fairly sure my speech was anything but slurred. I don't know. I think I've always just sort of thought that if I were drunk, I'd somehow know it. Isn't that how it works?
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A true story of bitter irony:

Picked up some lunch at the In-n-Out Burger over the weekend. As I'm pulling in, I spied some maniac screeching through the parking lot and into a parking spot. Now, In-n-Out parking spots are very tight, usually requiring a 3-point turn at least to wedge one's way in. This hoser indeed hits the brakes, his bumper mere inches from a green Accord sitting empty and innocent in the adjoining spot. "Jeez," I thought, "that was friggin' close." After backing up for point two of the three-point turn, Hoser hits the gas again and crunches into the side of the green Accord. Ugh. Hoser gets out of the car, checks the damage, looks around to see if anyone is watching, and goes on his merry way, without leaving a note or anything.

Well, this infurates me, of course, but... it gets worse. Hoser, as it turns out, is walking toward ANOTHER car in the parking lot that obviously looks extremely scraped up. Beside the scraped-up car stands a very befuddled looking gentleman who happens to be the spitting image of Lenny Kravitz. As any concerned citizen might, I rolled down the window to listen to their conversation...

HOSER: So, what kind of damage are we looking at, here?

LENNY KRAVITZ: Well, uh. Looks like you scraped up the front driver's side pretty good.

HOSER: Anh, it doesn't look too bad to me. See, you can get most of it off with your fingernail. See? Look how easy.

LENNY KRAVITZ: Yeah, I, well, it looks like it's pretty dented up, too. There's definitely some, you know... some damage there, uh...

HOSER: Okay, okay. Listen, don't be a jerk about it, okay? There isn't any need to get the police or citations into it. I'll take care of the damage.

LENNY KRAVITZ: All right. Well, if you've got your insurance info on you, we can exchange--

HOSER: No, no, no. I don't want to mess around with insurance. Forget it. I said I'd pay for the damage, what else do you want? Besides, you were barely in your own parking spot anyhow, it's not like it was all MY fault...

LENNY KRAVITZ: Hey, man, listen, I was totally in my spot. You hit me. I don't know what you're trying to say here...

HOSER: Maybe if you'd done a little bit better job of parking, this wouldn't have happened.

(That clinched it. No friggin' way. I pulled my car over to these two guys and rolled down my window.)

JER: Excuse me? Sir? I just saw you hit that green Accord over on the other side of the parking lot. Was that your SECOND accident in the course of one minute?

HOSER: Are you talking to me?

JER: Yes, you. I hope you're not trying to weasel your way out of a citation, because your driving skills are absolutely atrocious.

HOSER: Hey, punk, mind your own business. This doesn't concern you.

JER: Oh yes it does. That's two cars in this parking lot you've smashed into. I don't want to be next.

LENNY KRAVITZ: Wait, wait, he hit ANOTHER car? Not just mine?

JER: Yeah, that green one over there. He didn't leave a note or anything.

HOSER: THAT... IS... that's a whole other... look, mind your own business! This doesn't have anything to do with you!

JER: Sir, do you respect anyone else on the road?

LENNY KRAVITZ: Listen, would you mind if I got your name and number? Like, as a witness? In case this goes to court or something?

JER: Absolutely.

HOSER: !!!

LENNY KRAVITZ: Let me grab a pen...

HOSER: I DON'T KNOW WHO YOU THINK YOU ARE, STICKING YOUR NOSE IN WHERE IT DOESN'T BELONG, BUT I SUGGEST YOU GET OUT OF HERE!!! NOW!

JER: Learn to drive responsibly, sir. Just do me that favor, okay?

LENNY KRAVITZ: Okay, what's your name?

HOSER: Hey!

JER: It's Jeremy Bear.

LENNY KRAVITZ: And your phone number?

HOSER: HEY!!!
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In the end, I gave my information and the Hoser was more infurated than ever. He was an older looking guy, maybe he was just too senile to drive or something. As I pulled away, he tried following beside me and even threatened to call a lawyer on both me and Lenny Kravitz. Huh! Go for it, dude. Whatta laff.

While peculiar, these events may not seem all that ironical, as stated above. Well, the irony's coming... Hhhh...
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Brings me to today. Still a pisser of a day, let me just tell you. Here's what happened:

Often, when I see that I'm running early for work (usually because traffic on the 405 has been uncharacterisically merciful), I'll grab some quick breakfast from McDonald's. The one about 3 blocks from the office in Costa Mesa works well enough. Since I didn't have to be there until 9 and I pulled into town at about 8:45, I hit the Mickey D's.

No, seriously. I HIT the Mickey D's.

As I pulled into the parking lot, toward the drive-thru, some joker decided it would be more convenient for him to exit using the lane with the little "in" arrow, rather than the lane with the more appropriate "out" arrow. No big deal, but I had to swerve around him, seeing as how he was in the lane that I'd planned on using. Well, whatever. As I corrected the swerve, the morning sun hit my windshield at a particularly deadly angle. For about a half second, I couldn't see a thing. At the milisecond that visibility was restored... well, you know.

Whammo.

I'd crashed head-on into one of those light-up McDonald's Drive-Thru signs. You know the ones. About waist high with the yellow arrow. Plastic, glass, metal and wires flew everywhere, exploding over the parking lot. My front bumper mangled, front passenger panel and hood dented, front lisence plate laying about 5 feet away. The sign itself was blown to absolute bits.

Man, there's nothing more infuriating and horrible and jarring than a car accident. It's terrible. I hate it. I HATE IT.

So, I immediate walked inside and told a manager what happened. Her reaction was a little bit surprising: "why did you come in and tell me? Why didn't you just drive away?" Because, I told her, that's not honest. I don't operate that way. She thanked me for being honest and came outside to inspect my dirty work.

As it turns out, a McDonald's regional manager happened to be visiting at that exact moment, and she walked over. Her outfit looked very official, almost like a police officer, except for a small pair of embroidered golden arches where a badge should be. She seemed none-too-pleased.

"Hi, your name is?"

"I'm Jeremy. Are you a manager here?"

"I'm a regional manager. I happened to be here inspecting this morning. What happened?"

"Well, I crashed into your sign. I was swerving around someone who was exiting in the wrong lane and... well, this happened."

"Was it their fault?"

"No, no, not really. It was mine. The sun was in my windsheild, you know, and... look, I'm really sorry. I gave the other manager all my information. I hope there's... you know. I don't know how expensive these things usually are..."

"I'm not sure, but I think these signs are somewhere in the range of $2,000."

"Really?"

"Something like that."

"Ouch. Well, again. It was my fault and I do apologize. Let me know what the damages are and I'll make sure it's taken care of. Maybe my insurance..."

"Uh-huh. Sir, I have to ask: why didn't you just drive away after it happened? You'd probably have gotten away with it."

"Well, I guess it didn't really occur to me. I can't do that, it's not honest."

"Are you a Christian?"

"...Actually, yes, I am a Christian."

"Mm."

"...Why, uh... why do you ask?"

"I thought you might be. I am too. I wouldn't have driven away either. Thank you for your honesty."

She shook my hand and that was that. I wasn't hurt, incidentally, but this looks to be a pretty expensive little mishap. Mostly, it's just really depressing. I feel stupid and embarrassed and... well, I guess I was able to be a decent representative of my faith, which is a good thing. We Christians will always tell you the straight truth, even if our driving skills are terrible.

So, that's that. I'm dreading the fallout, but I've officially joined the ranks of Dad and Erin with their Holiday car-crashes.

If there is a moral to this story, I guess it's... I don't know, really. Maybe I should've taken it a little easier on the Hoser at the In-n-Out. Ug.

posted by Jeremy Bear 10:44 AM

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