Oh, blogosphere – I’m sorry. I’ve fallen off the blogon, but I’m back. Forgive me. I have no other excuses than I’m lazy and I sometimes doubt the meaning of doing, well, anything. But here I am. It’s good to be back.
So I’m reading CBC online news yesterday, and I come across the craziest running story I think I’ve ever heard so far. Picture this. You’re a 38 year-old father of two little ones. You’re running on a beach in South Carolina. Beautiful day. The sand is making the run a bit difficult, and you’re pushing. No problem, though – you’ve got your iPod cranked, and you’ve got your set list planned perfectly. Awesome.
Meanwhile, up in the sky, a single-engine plane is running into trouble. Oil has just splattered all over the windshield at 4,000 feet, obscuring the view. The pilot decides to turn back to the nearest airport. At some point, though, the propeller – the only propeller – falls off. It’s a nightmare. The plane’s gliding – but there’s a beach below where the pilot can make an emergency landing. But he can’t really see much.
Can you see where this is going?
It’s hard to believe, but the plane actually hit the runner, killing him instantly. He never saw it coming – never heard it either. Or if he did hear anything, he didn’t bother to look behind him. And who would? Can you even imagine processing the thought: “oh, shit, is that an airplane crash landing behind me?”
But it was.
What was it that Mark Twain said about real life versus fiction – something about fiction being constrained by the fact that it has to be believable? Real life can do whatever the hell it wants.
But you know what’s worse? Okay, no, not really – the tragic death of a father is what’s worst (by a long shot), but you know what adds insult to the whole thing from my point of view hundreds of miles away (ah, how desensitized I am)? It’s the headline: Plane kills Carolina beach jogger.
Jogger?
Anyway, as tempted as I am to probe this story for possible philosophical and spiritual meanings or to draw unwarranted conclusions about iPods, I’m going to let this poor fellow runner rest in peace.
