The Domestic Anti-Diva

Remember this one?

My sister and I had this when we were kids. I remember the two of us spending many hours watching the parts fly. We’d pull the cord as hard as we could and send the cars plowing into walls, Barbies, furniture, dolls, the flat side of the ramps they came with, anything we could. POP! The wreckage! The bits of plastic all over the place! The fun!

I guess I subconsciously wanted to relive that experience a few weeks ago. A momentary distraction (a car in the oncoming lane pulling off to the side of the road–what the **** was she doing, anyway?) and concomitant momentary lapse of attention to the road left me plowing into the back of the minivan that had stopped in front of me. Oops.

The sound reminded me of my old smash-up derby. POP! The wreckage! The bits of plastic all over the place! The… oh wait. It wasn’t fun. Though I did have nice smoke effects from the airbags, and pretty green radiator fluid spilling all over the road. I had plenty of time to appreciate the sight, since it took OVER AN HOUR for the state highway patrol to get there. I hit hard enough to knock the car in front of me into the car in front of them. But the other two cars didn’t appear to be too seriously damaged, and the people in them (one in each) said they weren’t hurt.

The end result of the accident (so far):

• One totaled 2003 domestic minivan (mine). Good riddance. We’d been riddled with buyer’s remorse since getting it less than a year ago. It smelled bad from the day we got it, and had started showing signs of impending large repair bills.

• One new 1999 import minivan. Despite it being several years older and having nearly 50% more miles on it than our old minivan, it seems to be a far better vehicle. Bonus: it’s the same manufacturer as my favorite car of all time, so the steering wheel and controls give me warm fuzzies.

• One ticket for “driving without due care.” $118 and 4 points. There goes my 23-year pristine driving record.

• Four hours of traffic school, to do away with the points. Technically, they say it also reduces your fine. Yeah, sure. My fine was reduced by about $15, I think. But then add on the cost of the class, plus the cost to file the certificate with the court to show I completed the class, and the so-called reduction is gone. It’s still worthwhile, though–my insurance rates won’t go up. I’m doing an online class that’s boring as all get-out. I should really be doing that now instead of writing this.

• One letter from an attorney representing the person in the car in front of me, who is seeking compensation for her “injuries.” Oh joy. I am so thankful for our insurance company, which is handling everything and says it shouldn’t be any big deal.

Moral of the story: keep your eyes on the road, kids!