HOW MANY TIMES TO ALMOST DIE

[The Urbane Spaceman]

I almost died.

It recurred.

I have almost died several times.

You probably have had this happen yourself. If not, good for you.

No, this is not about food poisoning. This about horrible ways to die.

Caveat: I have witnessed five good deaths. These are family members surrounded by those whom they love, and the final beat of the heart and the last exhale is witnessed. I think that this is the best way to go.

Me? With my luck, I’ll be trapped in a fiery car crash. Screaming. Hopefully I’ll have some black rum to chug in the face of Mistah Death. Maybe he’ll have a drink with me and it won’t be all that painful.

Probably not.

Oh fucking well.

Let’s raise a glass to Mistah Death. May he treat us all well, or at least, on the lowest level, to the well rail drinks.



DRINK!



I don’t count the time when I almost died at an early age, when my freshly-divorced-dad drove by the house and saw that the stove pipe was blowing flames.


He was in his old Chevy Impala. It looked exactly like this, except with many more rust spots, and the rear passenger floor wells were gone out, and you could see the road below.


Freshly divorced, living in a shitty apartment next to his office, he checked on us each night. This one night in the middle of winter, before the big holiday, he saw flames.

Mom had stuffed the wood stove with aged splits of oak, but she forgot to turn down the dampers on the front end.


I woke up from the door busting in, and my dad grabbing us kids up. Me and my two tiny sisters: he hauled us out past the stove. It was red, and the slides were bright orange, and drooping.


It was very hot inside the house, and it was freezing cold outside in the snow.

He chucked us into his car and there was old time music on the radio. How odd to recall that part. I wish I knew the name of that tune. It was most likely by Cash, Waylon, or Kris, ya know.

Then he went back in, as the roof caught on fire.


He ran and woke Kimmer up, (the next day, her bed was draped in melted plastic form the ceiling, holding up the insulation, because she didn't have sheet-rock in there) and then he ran down the long hallway to the rear of the house, and got mom out of bed, and they all got the hell out.

I can still see them running through the snow in their bare feet, towards us, to his shitty car.

Dad had the family dog in his arms.

He saved everyone.



This is a true story.



We lived in several tribal homes while the tribe rebuilt our place, because that is what we do here.

I was odd to pass each other on the streets like strangers for a few months, while the drunks finished our home.


Until we finally abandoned that place a few years ago, if you opened up a wall, you would find empties. Narragansett, Pabst, and Bud. Cans. With the oil can tops. No tabs.

i've saved some of them all these years, as a testament to my tribe.



Yeah, mom took care of dad in that new “fixed up” place a year later when he got the cancer and then died, and then she bailed and we had nothing but oil lamps.


But this is not about that.


This is about how it feels to almost die, when you are certain that it is going to happen.


It’s happened several times.

Hey, it’s better than a strong cup of coffee, to wake you up.

And this is all true.



See you very soon.


Don't forget to take a sip now and then, my friend.


.

[oldsmartskunk]

How many times i almost not pissed myself... Wait what? A good story. A good beginning to even better story!

[oettinger]

When being a passenger in dad`s car I almost die everytime now. Freaking old man!!!!