The Here and Now

2006 has started off with a bang.


The evening began with the coroner’s visit to the
apartment building next to the porch I was standing on
and ended with a hit-and-run.
There is also the matter of the ruined cashmere
sweater.

Thankfully, neither me, nor my friends were on the
ouchy end of the previously mentioned events.
Though not knowing a victim’s name is rarely comfort.


Maybe proximity determines your reactions.
When the flashing lights came screaming into our
parking lot early in the evening we ran to the porch
to see the carnage. The curiosity was palpable.
Heightened when a woman came tearing from the house
screaming, “He’s dead! He’s dead!”

Later the coroner pulled up confirming the woman’s
frantic cries.

We were mildly shocked by this turn of events. But
thoughts of mortality were quickly pushed from our
minds
With the next round of drinks.
With the sight of a drunk streaking through the
parking lots.
With the “knowledge” that we are young and immortal.

Many hours later as the closing time lights came on
and our evening was drawing to an end we streamed from
the bar en-mass. Hundreds of 20-somethings hit the
sidewalks
Hailing cabs.
Discussing dinner plans.
Attempting final hook-ups.

Suddenly the sound of fear ripped through the crowd.
Someone had been hit by a car.
It was a hit-and-run.

A nameless boy lie on the street. His legs skewed at
odd angles.
His eyes closed.

Somehow I ended up at his side, commandeering a
sweater from an onlooker to stem the blood from the
back of his head.

A good friend of mine was talking to him when he was
hit.

We later heard that he was doing fine.
This accident hit us all harder than that of earlier
death.
There were tears and trembling hands.
There were long discussions and rehashing.

How could we dismiss the loss of life so easily?
Was it because we never saw his face?
Could we remain immortal because we never saw the
blood?

This is how I began 2006.
What does this say for the rest of the year?