I love a good baseball game. Especially one in which you root for the underdog and the underdog gives the mighty opponent a thrashing within an inch of your memory. We went to The Ballpark in Arlington last night and watched Your Texas Rangers beat the ever-loving snot out of the Boston Red Sox, not to mention the fact that the starting pitcher for the Sox was none other than Josh Beckett, the Savior of Spring, Texas. I watched him pitch in high school. He is greased lightening.
I like to knit during the first several innings of a night game. We usually have sandwiches, I knit and digest and then when it gets too dark or difficult to pass stitches from one needle to the next, I put it down, grab a beverage and root with real gusto. Makes being at the ballpark with my love a bit sweeter.
So, we were pretty pumped headed home last night. A great win against the BoSox will do that to you. Since I-30 takes you straight from our corner of East Dallas to Arlington, we stick with the Interstate for the entire trip. We were almost home last night, just past downtown Dallas on I-30, when a semi (tractor-trailer or 18-wheeler, for those of a different vernacular) decided that we didn't exist and almost took off the front end of Honda Solo as it made it's way from right to left into our lane.
Never before had I been so genuinely afraid for my life. I screamed, grabbed the "Oh Shit!" handle that usually clings to the headliner of the car, and braced myself for impact. Dave hit the brakes and laid on the horn, the truck swerved and we lived.
The whole thing made me realize that this life could be over in an instant. Our lives could end because of a careless semi driver with the license X01-004 decided that he could squeeze into our lane despite the fact that doing so would have killed us. And I can't reconcile that. It makes me angry and it makes me feel helpless at the same time.
But then again, one of the most beautiful things about life is the unpredictable. The things that you cannot control often end up showing you scenes from a reality with which you might otherwise never meet.
Here's hoping we all live through it.