I'm not even going to address Wilma except to say that my family was truly blessed. I pray this is the last weather bullet we have to dodge before we leave Florida in two weeks. Clock's ticking... loudly...

Got the call from Officer Cordeau at 8:45 this morning asking when I could come in to give my official statement in regards to the horror I witnessed Thursday afternoon. Now that it's on record, I feel that I can purge it in text with a clear conscience. Just finished editing the image at the top less than 30 minutes ago.

It was barely after 2:00 pm as I waited in my usual spot at the very end of the semicircle in front of Goofy #1's school. I'm always there by 2:00 so I can park where he won't be at risk of having to cross the driveway. Even in front of that school, some of those freaking idiot parents act like it's the Daytona 500. They seem to be oblivious to the fact that there are throngs of children crossing that patch of asphalt. Morons!!! Anyway...

My location is marked in the image as the little eyeball. My field of vision is pretty much unobstructed from the end of the driveway to the south, on northward. The trees aren't as dense as their foliage suggests. The oaks are just very old, tall and leafy. They made for a nice canopy on scorching afternoons, but I got tired of the ersatz racers two months earlier, hence the eyeball location.

I heard the motorcycle well before it ever came into veiw. It approached from the south. I went back to composing my grocery list for a moment when I heard the bike accelerate. This recaptured my attention, so I looked back toward the highway. Yes, I do have a fondness for motorcycles- as long as they're not friggin' rice rockets. I saw the car first just because its bright blue shade was hard not to notice. It was ahead in the northbound section. I reckon the driver had just corrected the huge swerve she'd reportedly made into the left lane upon leaving the side road located under the VFW lettering. The motorcycle driver, Alan Digirol, had sped up to pass her on her left. Everything seemed fine. Mr. Digirol didn't appear to be doing anything abnormal. He wasn't hotdogging, etc. He just appeared to be trying to get past this blue hatchback as swiftly and safely as possible.

10:40 pm now. I've been reviewing the pics again. Over the past few days I've managed to develop enough of an emotional detachment to study them from a technical aspect. Some things are bothering me. Problem is that since I won't publish them online, it's just me going through all the aerobics of logic, physics, and gut instinct. I will say that neither the car nor the motorcycle were bearing tags at the time the images were captured. One image contains a face-down tag which I gathered was from the car, given its size. Still doesn't explain the whereabouts of the other tag. Also, the make of the car does not have a mounted rear bumper like say, an old VW Bug. It's one of those molded styles with the tag area and rear reflectors built in to look like simply part of the lower carriage. But in one other image there's what appears to be a bumper. It may have been a running board for the bike, but its design really didn't support it. Then again I didn't see the side touching the pavement. So, WTF is it? The only damage to the car appeared on the driver's side. The door could now be used for a salad bowl. Surprised the woman didn't need to be cut out with the jaws of life...

In the dozen images were two captures of the EMTs going through the motions of trying to raise the dead. They clearly showed the point of impact upon Mr. Digirol's person. Even if he'd survived, he surely would've had a broken right hip. Hard to confirm, though, because he was a very large man who stood 6'3" tall, and was on the ample end of the BMI scale. Mr. Digirol was not wearing a brain bucket. This still pisses me off. I can't help but wonder if he might have stood a chance at surviving if he'd been wearing one. However, with his physical injuries, even if he escaped busting his coconut (indeterminate at the time, but I saw little blood from his head), the internal trauma could've taken him just as easily. Still, it was obvious that he was dead. Eyes open, nobody home. I can only suppose he wasn't pronounced at the scene because the kids were being dismissed from school about 100 yards away.

All the science and speculation still cannot erase from my memory the mental film footage of the vehicular manslaughter. Yes, you read that right. I don't even know what charges the driver has against her, but that's what I'm calling it. If anyone's got a problem with it, fucking sue me. I've still got the remnants of the first amendment backing me up, Jack. I can't simply lie to myself by repeating a mantra like, "It was a video game," or anything even remotely different than what it was: a human being taken needlessly from the Big Room in a horriffic manner. Besides, as long as I don't cave in and get as obliterated as possible just to cope... (on daily reprieve #3,789)

What's been adding to this is that it's forced vivid recollections from 20+ years ago to the surface of my waking life. During the summer of 1981 I was broadsided while crossing a major roadway in Rockville, MD. I was riding a 10-speed bike when I was struck by a big-ass luxury car. If Mr. Digirol was still alive upon initial impact with the hatchback, we both probably experienced very similar visions. Sky, ground, sky, ground... Repeat until collision with pavement. Fucking mid-air cartwheels. It's true when folks say that their lives flash before their eyes. I guess my HPs still aren't done with me yet. I'm still very much on this crazy damn rock despite more than that experience. Thy Will be done. So mote it be!

What an in-friggin'-sane week... I'm actually looking forward to this hurricane. Why? So I can finally slow the fuck down for a few days! That is, with the exception of doing laundry tomorrow at 'Topher's. Other than that, if Casa del fugi ain't got it, we don't need it. In fugi-ese this translates to: I can't believe my fellow east central Floridians are so freaked about this storm! The Wilma Mania officially began yesterday evening. This determination was made due to the fact that when I stopped by a local high-volume service station this morning at 8:00 for smokes, the pumps were dry. WTF?!? Given that this is Friday, and subsequently payday for most of the citizens, y'all know I made damn sure to wrap up all my errands by 3:30 this afternoon.

I haven't been inclined to play nice online for quite a while. I offer zero apologies nor mercy for the sheer ignorance of others. Want a tame example? Read this Y! 360 entry from last week, including the comments. [link] I only reference that as a segue for the rest of this mixed bag.

I closed a certain credit card account back in July. According to the corporate gluttons, the account will only be total history after four inactive billing cycles. Here's the catch. Ready? It was a Visa card that carried a monthly membership fee. Even though I hadn't used the damn card since June, it was still assessed that stinking fee. Since the account was closed, I no longer recieved statements- otherwise I would've known! Since I was unaware that the account was still being charged the membership fees, it accrued late fees and killed my credit rating. Heads have been rolling at their corporate HQ, believe it. I refuse to deal with flunkies, and insist on securing employee ID numbers for every individual with whom I speak. I keep detailed records of all phone communications, including start/end times, length of time on hold, and who/where. Today alone I spent over an hour reaming buttmunches in America, Canada, and India. No shit. Long story short, en route as of yesterday via snail mail is a letter on Capital One letterhead which states that the account was closed in good standing back in July, it had a consistently excellent payment history, and that the current 30 day delinquency was their fault. I only wish it hadn't taken so flippin' long to finally get connected to a CSR in their investgative department.

Yeah, I really need to get those tutorials underway. In the meantime, here's a couple of gold nuggets earned the hard way. Until I have time to compose the tutorials, just remember that when dealing with automated systems, the zero button is your best friend for circumventing most of that clusterfuck. You're welcome. ;oD

Onward!!!

All systems are still green-lighted for closing on our current residence on November 8th. Last annoyance between now and then is the buyer's appraisal. Funny how this hasn't happened prior to Wilma's soaking. Think I'm sweating it? No. This place is built like the proverbial brick outhouse. If we were going to get any damage, it would've happened last year during either Frances or Jeanne. Wilma's going to be a cake walk. Again I ask why the hell are the cattle around here in such a frenzy???

One last item I really need to purge. Had the misfortune to witness a situation that most folks would get themselves fubar over just to sleep at night. Yesterday while waiting for Goofy #1's school dismissal I saw a biker get killed about 100 yards away on US-1. I don't feel right about going into too much detail right now as I still haven't given my formal statement to the local investigator. That will happen early next week. At that time I will also be submitting an already burned disc of a dozen accident scene photos I took. No, I absolutely will NOT publish them, even for a fee, so don't ask! There's just something so fundamentally wrong with exploiting the tragedies of private citizens without even so much as their knowledge, let alone their consent. Screw that. Photojournalism has its place, but in this case, it ain't in this blog, baby. My only concern is that if this ends up going to trial, I hope I don't have to come back to this sick excuse for "civilization" to testify. Yes, the driver was at fault, and is now sporting several criminal charges.

Gah- 23:10 now. Still haven't even checked my email accounts today...

*~*~*fugi outie*~*~*