But are you accident prone as well though?
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But are you accident prone as well though?
For Babe..
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SP8b2H77uqg
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SP8b2H77uqg
So, notwithstanding the little snippet, I see great possibilities with a "Wilson" next door. The old guy with a sort of pained sufferance with a fool next door and a lot of vainly jovial annoying questions. . . .. endless possibilities for saying stuff that you'd never say in polite society. . . .well, but maybe on JazzFanz. . . . .
Haha.. well that snippet doesn't actually do him justice. Wilson is well read in Philosophy, well educated and most of all wise. He often would tell stories about Socrates and Aristotle, etc, etc, and from those stories try to help Tim through whatever issues he confides him with.
Obviously people only post funny stuff he did on Youtube cos that's what get the most views.. LOL..
Since you brought the subject up, I've been rampaging through Google at the velocity of light, and learning all I can about it. Game wonders how I can be such a knowitall, and this is how. One thing at a time crunched under my manic thirst for information. . . .
I did find some stuff about Wilson being a backyard philosopher and an actual professional in psychiatry or something like that. . . . someone who made a living helping people with their problems. . . .listening and mentoring or something. . . . and they did push the philosopher role in the show more than the jokes. The show even dealt with a lot of real life issues .
During those years I was one of the hardest working dudes I've ever heard of, and saw virtually no TV. I did 80 hours a week on my job so I could get a down payment for my ranch. Then I did 80 hours so I could pay for the ranch and get out of my job. I called it buying my way outta Alcatraz. Well, or outta the Gulag. . . .
I missed it, and Seinfeld, too. Actually I never did much TV anytime in my life. I was the kid in school who stared out the windows To The Far Blue Mountains. . . .
and yes, some people in real life do come around and sorta draw the Wilson outta me so far as they can manage. . . . .
And as I've crunched Google for more info, I realize that what I thought I watched wasn't this "Home Improvement" but "This Old House" or something that portrayed real-life fix-it-men doing real home makeovers. I have done some home renovation, sorta, on places I have for rentals and the honey-dos, too.
In fact, I have to wake up in about five hours to go rip out some stinky carpet in the rental I had to kick the pothead out of.
And give the contractor some money to get started installing some laminate floor that won't be such a sponge for dogpee and pot fumes.
And then it's off to San Francisco again. And LA. Driving.
I said elsewhere I'm not a good driver. Let me tell some stories. . . .
My wife's driving actually scares me. I have to get my ipad out and play chess so I won't see what's going on "on the road". She thinks she's immortal.
And that's the worst mistake a driver can make.
I used to think that.
Damn, I just read that the actor who played Wilson died of lung cancer in 2003 ... I thought he's still around... hmmm.. human life is quite short isn't it?
In July of 1995, driving a Toyota Corolla at 85 mph, there was cow on the road, exactly in the middle, straddling the white dotted line. I had a 17-yr-old kid with me. I looked at the cow, and did not slow down. I went around her on the rear end side. No problem.
The kid peed his pants, and told his dad. Never got to go out to the ranch again.
In November of 1995, I had a pickup, and my Chow Chow dog riding shotgun. A windy day, I had been driving into a headwind fighting to keep my speed up, then turned so the wind was pushing me. I think I was doing 90 or more, and reached for something, looking down. I pulled the wheel just enough my right tires went off the pavement, and I took out a reflector along the road, then sorta hurried to get back on the road. Too fast. Transition jerked me and I went straight across the road. I went into the soft ground and sage and almost kept it straight and upright, but not quite. A sage tripped me over end over end. My dog smashed my hand on the steering wheel and then went out the back window, landing about one foot from the place where the truck landed next. I found the round indentation of where he hit, but he had taken off, and I never found him. Some kids from a little desert commune found him and hid him because they were not allowed to have pets, and when the adults discovered the contraband dog, they just shot him.
At any rate, I was wearing a seat belt, and I had for some uncanny impulse removed some heavy tools like wrenches and sledge hammers from the cab of the truck before I started out. A dope peddler found me upside-down, strapped in, in the overturned pickup. My hand was smashed, lacerated. Apparently, the dog had snagged on the rear-view mirror and taken part of it with him and impaled it in my hand. The dope peddler used a cell phone to call the highway patrol, and stayed with me for an hour. I was that far from help. He found a clean shirt in his travel bag and dressed my wounds and stopped the bleeding, and found my radar detector and thoughtfully confiscated it, saying it wouldn't help my case. Then when he saw the ambulance and the cops coming he hopped back in his SUV and drove on to I'm sure San Francisco.
The think that what sticks most in my recollection of this is how when he approached the truck, his voice sounded doubtful he'd find me alive. "Anybody there?"
I have made a roadside shrine of the spot, as I go by it frequently. I began a new life from that time. I remember explaining to the local sheriff who also went out to look at what happened, how the cause was inattention. All my accidents have been "inattention". Well, I have fallen asleep while driving, too. But when I have done that, somehow, I've slowed down to a stop. Still, waking up in the road, stopped, is pretty scary, too. At any rate, since I've been married, I've gotten my driving thrills from my wife. If I get drowsy I pull off the road, well off the road, and just sleep. I look for deer, and don't overdrive my headlights. In daylight, I make it a point to be defensive. Other cars I count as unpredictable and I try to keep a good space around me, if I have to slow down for a while and just stay behind that truck.
I preach to myself all the time when I drive, about how I want to die like my grandpa did. In a peaceful sleep at home in bed, at 103 years old or older, after a nice day of sitting on the front porch.