THAT DAY

Our band (The Krelkins) has a recording session at Snoring Dog Studio. But our guitarist Mike is running way late, recording sound effects he wants on one song. So Mike tells me to drive over to Snoring Dog on my own.

Only my car won't start! Let it sit too long, and the battery ran down.

So... I bike. Miles, and mostly uphill. Hot & tired...

I'm nervous about working without Mike, but Steven the engineer and I communicate clearly. By the time Mike FINALLY arrives, over an hour late, we've powered through revising six songs.

Mike walks in, and it all slows to a crawl. Still, in the next three hours we do four more; ten songs total. Only four to go.

Four full hours, not the three we planned. I bike home at sunset. Brr...

Still, our first album feels mostly done. I've even roughed in the CD cover (see right).

THAT NIGHT

I'm riding in my old VW bus, with Mike driving. He knows how, but he has a VR headset on that superimposes a story on the road! I can see his world without a headset, though it's faint and glassy for me. He's following a man's spiritual quest, guided by an anima or angel who looks human but may be pure energy. It's compelling, especially now as they reach a crisis--a zone of fire ahead on the Path--especially for a spiritual type like Mike...

But what's really dangerous is the high quality of his immersive VR. He really needs to keep his eye on the road and I'm not sure he can even see it. The car needs nursing; earlier when I drove, I noticed a buzzy rattle in the shift, and the brakes were spongy & weak. Must avoid steep hills and quick stops.

I take over for a while--I think. Full stop at a corner and... I can't. The right wheels go right over a low sports car. Our hippie bus tips but doesn't fall. The sportcar doesn't crush either--tough! Still, we need to exchange insurance info... but Mike won't stop! Wait, he's in the driver's seat, not me! No wonder the car didn't respond at all to my attempts to brake. I couldn't reach the pedal.

It's the failure I foresaw! But I feel some relief; Mike was legally at fault not me; HIS insurance rate will soar.

Only it won't. The incident won't even get reported. Turns out Mike WAS observant--after the fact. He says "There's something illegal about that car--stolen or modified so they can't risk having it inspected." He's right--the other driver zooms guiltily off! Mike's saved. Gotta be the first hit-and-run in history where the victim runs.

I scold Mike "Slow down and WATCH THE ROAD!" I feel like I'm being fussy--since it worked out.

What? Really? He just hit a car, hard. Will he crush a kid, next? And if his guardian angel helps him escape legal liability for that with some unlikely free pass, will it make the kid's injuries okay?

And still I don't order him out of the drivers' seat. Of my car...

NEXT MORNING

Mike's distracted driving is how I felt about our studio session today. His flaky side merely upset and exhausted me; no disaster. Today. But next time, and the next?

Just to be safe, I better avoid driving today! Wait--I'll get a street-sweeping ticket if I don't move my car one block.

Force myself. Go slow, on empty residential streets. Just as I'm parking, I one tire runs over what looks like a flimsy plastic bottle. But I hear a funny click from the tire. Check. A steady hiss. Find woodscrews jammed into the tread. One went straight in. Soon my tire's flat.

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