Weekly Address October 11, 2006 (Death to Austrian Tourists in Rental Cars)

So what kind of idiot parks their car in the middle of highway to check his map?

Martin Opitz, stoic Austrian tourist, that's what kind of idiot.

On Monday I was happily driving along, on my way to pick up Olivia from BART. I come off of Devil's Slide in Pacifica and wham! Smack right into the back of one Martin Opitz, stoic Austrian tourist, henceforth referred to as "MOSAT." I guess MOSAT thought it was a good idea to just stop right there, right where he was and check his map. And yes, since I rear-ended MOSAT the accident is my fault. Crap.

Being in a car accident is so surreal. There's the impact and then about 15 seconds of complete silence and then the adrenaline starts rushing. Mentally doing a body check-in: "Legs? We're good? Good. How's the back? Okay, terrific. Car-how's the car looking? Oh good god, my car, my car, look at my car!"

This accident was even more surreal because the other participant didn't speak English all that well. He provided me with his address and the fact that his rental car came from Hertz. Other than that, he just waved his map around and impersonated one of those Buckingham Palace guards. Never cracked a smile or a frown, just a complete deadpan stare.

I, on the other hand, was a complete mess. I held off the tears until I tried unsuccessfully to find my AAA card. Then I started to bawl. My cellphone was dead, and I was afraid to turn on the engine to charge the cell and I was panicked about Olivia being at the Daly City BART station at night with all the weirdos that hang out there. I used the international sign for "phone" (thumb and pinky held next to face) and MOSAT let me use his Blackberry. I called AAA, left a message for Olivia (don't talk to strangers! Help will be there soon!) but I couldn't get in touch with Eric, because Eric doesn't have a cell phone and he'd already left work. I knew he was having dinner at his parents house though and luckily when I called there, he'd just arrived. So at least reinforcement was on the way. But to get that reinforcement I had to cry in front of my mother-in-law, a dreadfully high price to pay.

Then the tow truck arrives, driven by a guy who looks like one of the hillbillies from "Deliverance." He drives me to his tow shop, located between a gas station and a bar. I try to get change for the payphone in front of the bar so I can let Olivia and Eric know where I am, but the mean lady at the gas station won't give me change unless I buy something and I only have a dollar and there's nothing to purchase that would leave me enough money for a phone call. And I really need to make that call, because thus far my conversation with Eric has been somewhat cryptic. At this point he thinks I am waiting for him at a Dennys.

I'm still crying, by the way.

Mean lady relents, so I head to the payphone in front of the bar. Surpringly, there's some drunk guy using it and he isn't reading my subtle signs of desperate phone need (red face, tears, clutching 4 quarters) and continues to yell into the phone at someone named Sue who really doesn't want company that night. (And Sue, if you're out there - I'm pretty sure this guy was lying to you about his sobriety.)

Anyway, the guy finally hangs up, I reach Olivia who has just been picked up by Eric and let them know where I am. I then spend the next 45 minutes standing in front of Winters Bar in Pacifica, still crying. Probably everyone I went to high school with in Pacifica drives by and sees me, sobbing in front of a bar.

If you're familiar with coastside geography, you may be wondering "why did it take 45 minutes to reach Pacifica from the Daly City BART station?" That's a good question, but you don't realize how incredibly direction-deficient my husband is. Eric has many wonderful traits, I love him dearly, but sometimes going more than a block causes him to get hopelessly lost. Candy Cane Lane comes to mind and isn't THAT a great story that I'd love to tell you but even I have my standards and wouldn't publicly humilate Eric in such a way.

I digress.

Anyway, I catch occasional glimpses of Eric and Olivia several blocks parallel to my location, performing illegal u-turns and then heading in the opposite direction. It's freezing and I don't have a coat (Mumma, I don't want to hear one word from you!) and by this point my eyes are basically swollen shut from crying. You'd think I'd stand out in a crowd, much less all by myself standing in front of a bar, but it takes my family several more tries until they reach me.

So that's one thing that happened this week.

I have several Olivia tidbits to relay that are kind of funny. First of all, I want to officially nominate Olivia's pal Nina Jacobsen as this week's "Miss Big Sandy Bottom." (This is a new feature, I will be honoring other notable achievements as warranted.)

I was already impressed with this kid, who is as good-natured and kind-hearted as they come, PLUS her mom owns Duarte's Tavern which give us special pie priveleges and acess to the best green chile soup on the planet.

Notre Dame has an annual "Club Fair" where all the various school clubs offer displays about their activities, talk to the students about joining, etc. I don't know why Olivia didn't attend the club fair, but in retrospect I bet she's really sorry she didn't.

Anyway, so Nina did attend and boy did she have fun. I think Nina's motivation was fairly simple: some clubs offer food for signups, she was hungry but didn't actually want to sign up for anything herself. So she just enrolled Olivia, who is now a proud member of 12 organizations that she would rather die than be a part of. I think she's okay with the Culture Club and the Spanish Club. But the Star Trek Club? Not so much. The Anime Club? hahaha the very idea makes me giggle, Olivia surrounded by a bunch of goth girls discussing the art form "manga?" There's a bunch of others, but my personal favorite is "Club BEEP-Bring Everyone Everywhere Peace." Olivia reports that everytime she walks by the school bulletin board, there are urgent messages posted for her regarding her membership in Club BEEP, as there is an upcoming demonstration rally to plan. As the instant message kids say, "lmao."

My nominee for "Mr. Big Sandy Bottom" this week is Teen Model Mike Parvizi.

Olivia had her headshot photo shoot this past weekend (see previous posts for important wardrobe information) and the shoot was still happening when her boyfriend Mike showed up to have dinner with us. The photographer asked Mike if he was willing to be a "prop" and next thing you know, Olivia and Mike are channelling James Taylor and Carly Simon, playing the guitar in front of a decrepit Volkswagon van.

So Mike gets kudos both for being a prop, and being willing to wear makeup to do it.

And finally, an honorable mention goes to Olivia's rowdy friends who attended the Tri-M Honor Society Induction ceremony last night. The ceremony was a dignified, staid event. Violins were played-polite, appreciative applause. Piano prodigies pounded out concertos, also to appreciative applause. Olivia sang an Italian opera song, her friends whooped and hollered and then they all stood up and spelled out the letters of her name with their hands like a bunch of drunks dancing to "YMCA" at a wedding:

O-L-I-V-I-A!

Best music recital I've ever been to.