Yesterday, I'm driving my dad home from dialysis. There's a pickup truck ahead of me and to the left pulling a low trailer. On the trailer, we learned, was a long sheet of aluminum, maybe 20 feet long and five or six wide. The operative word here is "was." Because very slowly, it stood straight up and then fell straight down between the lanes. It happened so slowly that it was very easy to avoid, and it was much more of a "Well look at that!" than a "Oh my God!" type phenomenon.
At the red light, I wound up right next to the pickup. The passenger side window was up and that was the side I was on but the driver's window was down so I said, somewhat loudly but I hope politely, "Y'all do know that you just lost a big sheet of aluminum in the road, right?" The driver said a bad word starting with S, so I guess she heard me. Then she tried to run the red light but was stymied by cross traffic for a moment. Then she ran it anyway.
They were last seen turning left at the next light, possibly with the idea of eventually turning around and going back (which isn't too easy in a pickup with a trailer) or possibly just going wherever they were going. I have no way to know.
Two points: I was never scared an instant. Once not too long ago, I would have had to pull off the road and sob for a few minutes. OK, possibly an exaggeration, but I think I would have been fairly alarmed. Those days apparently are past.
Second: Even in my head, as it was happening, I found myself describing it as seeming to be in slow motion. This is silly. I don't know how we've all gotten indoctrinated through TV, movies, and mainly sports to think in those terms. I mean, it wasn't like slow motion; it just happened slowly. That does happen from time to time. It's actually kind of weird that it happens seldom enough that the brain wants to toss out "like slow motion." I guess most slow things that happen aren't worth mentioning. I guess?
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