Any teenagers or early 20somethings reading will be alarmed but there was a time before all life was lived through technological gadgets: a time before camera phones, instant messaging, ipods and crackberries. Most of the time I love modern technology and the web but sometimes I think I'd be better off back in the 80s where my correspondence was over the telephone. I would sometimes have to wait hours for my parents, brothers and sister to get off the phone. In desperation I might jump on my bicycle (being careful to avoid rampaging dinosaurs or swooping pterodactyl on the road) and pedal on over to a friend's house with some excitement or another I needed to share. Bad news travelled slowly and good news too ...which is okay, more time to enjoy. Sometimes ignorance is bliss.True story. Yesterday I am perusing my favorite blogs as I am prone to do and I read this little missive on the always enjoyable My New Plaid Pants about the Final Destination franchise. I have never seen one of those movies because even thinking about horror films gives me nightmares. And as I was giggling about JA's obsession and quivering a little at the hooky concept (with which I was familiar, it being "sticky") about cheating death and the loopy ways with which it will find you anyway, my gmail beeps at me and this very image pops up.
Yes, that is exactly what it looks like.
A piece of lumber has sailed through the passenger window of a car. (I'm certain I've seen people impaled this way in movies. Was it The Descent or maybe the famous Dutch film The 4th Man?) This image arrives in my mailbox from The Boyfriend's iPhone sent from inside. this. car. Yes, while he is still shaking from his life flashing before his eyes (thankfully when one takes a cab one sits in the back seat), I am able to share in his near-death terror almost instantaneously. In the 80s I wouldn't have heard about this (let alone seen it) until hours later had it happened to a loved one. BUT since I am reading about Final Destination in 3-D mere moments before seeing this projectile photo, I spend the rest of the day, and perhaps this whole business trip of his, worried that The Grim Reaper is angry that The Boyfriend escaped its bony-hand clutches.
JA owes me! I hate iPhones, the internets and instant access to everything today. If you need me I will be available only by snail mail or by rotary phone ... just try to find one.
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