Two Dead and a Concussion: The Name of My Next Band

Twice the in the past two months Greg and I have been on the Long Island Rail Road and heard the following announcement over the PA system:

Do to a pedestrian fatality we will be stopped indefinitely. Buses are en route.

In the silence after those words. Your head goes to strange places.

Man or woman?

Tied to the tracks?

Headphones up too loud?

Dare?

How long did he/she stay alive?

The buses are for us right?

Are they taking us to the mall?

How many buses?

How often does this happen?

Last Saturday night we heard this, the train stopped, the eight inches of snow started and after many frantic phone calls his parents diverted their vehicle to pick us up where we landed. We were headed to a family party. Greg navigated his mother through rights and lefts. We made one wrong turn and BAM!...my vision comes back and I'm laying on my future Father-in-law. He is about the size of my thigh.

I feel like I have a constant hang-over but on the ceiling. Gravity is a bit challenging.

New Campaign for Seat Belts:

Close your eyes and think about your first toilet-hugging hang over. Now imagine that feeling every waking moment of your day because you didn't wear your seat belt.

Concussions feel like a bad hang over that won't go away. Wear your seat belt. Or a helmet. And don't drink and stuff kids.

I hope those two pedestrians are in heaven shaking their fingers at me.