The following happened on August 11, 2023.
I’ve been fighting for the last few years—but especially the last week—with a frustration and deep depression about the monstrous human condition: the lack of charity, of real love and lives filled with dedication to improving and lifting all of us; the obsession with riches and gain; the “I got mine” mentality and “look at me” focus; the end of informed dialog and debate; the race to destroy Mother Earth as fast as we can; the demonization of education and extreme, dogmatic fundamentalism; the cults, gangs, religions, and political parties that prey on sincere, simple people turning them into human carcass batteries powering their mechanized, stinking bowels to produce the mind-worm larvae these viral parasites require to paralyze and consume others becoming hosts whose guts eventually explode infecting all around them. If I think about it at all I get very depressed. It’s terrifying. Most of humanity is absolute shit, operating at a base level barely above pond scum, and we all let it get this way.
Then Friday I literally got some sense knocked into my head (and four front teeth knocked out of it). God had a painful message for me. [Disclaimer: I don’t really believe in some narcissistic white-bearded dick in the sky who promises multiple wives if I do what he says (although once upon a time I did). It’s a metaphor.]
Thursday night I had an amazing ride around Jetton Park and met some amazing people along the way. I sat on the point watching the sunset with my Twitch friends just realizing the contrast from the day before (at Trump golf course). It was overwhelming. I felt like it was a turning point, but the Universe apparently had even more in store for me.
Friday night I covered the interactive art where we had our feet washed by the artist, then ate a meal where each of us had to feed the person across the table. We were bound and our primary hand made useless. I joked and laughed with Nicole, one of my wife Doris’ new BFFLs. Nicole’s an artist and a teacher and just as demented and fun as Doris. I felt very fortunate to be paired with her.
Of course, I streamed the whole thing.
I was on a huge high after the dinner at sunset and seeing my wife in her new position as Project Manager of the McColl Center having only been a renting local resident just two years ago. Now, in many ways, she’s running the place (with others of course). She’s found so much fulfillment and seeing it just makes me overwhelmed with joy (a cliche word, but apt).
I set out after that on the bike to discover whatever I could find in Charlotte. Cycling is about exploration (for me anyway). We (the chat and I even though I was the only on biking) biked through the different party zones following/stalking the drunk people doing different things.
Then I was inspired to go to The Common Market, my favorite place to hang out in Charlotte because of the amazing people who choose to hang there. I was hoping to find Kevin and Jo there, the bike messengers who took me in a few weeks earlier.
It was no loss. Drinking a PBR I met some of the most amazing videographers in the region. One was actually filming at the McColl earlier and recognized me (since we were capturing around each other the whole time). Turns out this was the place he chose to crash after the other events as well, the “after party” as it were. I had such a great time talking to Kevin (same name as messenger) and Surf about their creative and life experiences. They were really into the streaming thing and I later asked Doris about it and, since she is Program Manager now, she offered that I do a workshop for all the live streaming I do and how to setup a rig to do it. The idea of approaching IRL streaming as a legit videographer just makes me very excited. I hadn’t thought of IRL streaming as an art form, but it really is, it’s a live form of video/photo journalism. Thinking of IRL streaming as art wasn’t something that really hit me until that night. I left with even more appreciation for it and all the people I’ve been fortunate to meet and “interview” through it.
I only had three beers, but my stomach was pretty empty. So I grabbed a slice at Fuel Pizza where I got to capture people randomly dancing to the DJ tunes there. It was a great slice. I could see the place where Doris and I first starting doing Yoga together, the place where I was when I knew I would eventually marry her. I was filled with a high like few I could have hoped for. Then I started my way home.
Not a block from pizza place I found myself on a well-lit downhill. I had been turning my front light on and off all night and had not thought to turn it on in this part of town. A woman left-turned from a dead stop in the parking on the side of the street stopping in the middle of the road. I had no where to go. I almost made it around, but I didn’t and ended up leaving my teeth in the street.
https://clips.twitch.tv/DifficultImpossibleTofuTakeNRG-THRpiwPjeVrCmG3w
After reviewing the time stamps in the video between when I was collided and when I first sent a chat message, I’m pretty sure I got knocked out for about two minutes. I hit at 6:34:40 in the video and first message at 6:36:51 “missing my front teeth”. I don’t remember getting myself to the grass, only sitting there. So either I was completely incoherent, or the two women carried me out of the street.
The woman who I collided with who was in some sort of party dress I think and I think had blonde hair (I never got a good look) helped me to the side of the road where I sat on the grass and just remember blood spewing everywhere from my face. She was very polite and called an ambulance. Must have been freaked out for sure. I got enough blood on my pants that the paramedics cut them off to see if I hurt my leg anywhere (thankfully I didn’t).
Another very kind woman, a brunette, bent over in front of me, crouched down, just looking into my eyes the whole time telling me I’d be okay. I blabbered something about my teeth missing and she walked up and found them returning them to me. Just before the firetruck and ambulance and cop car arrived she disappeared. She was just such a nice person. I must have been a very ghastly site. I mean, the photos I posted should probably have a warning or something because they look so awful. But this amazing young woman just stayed with me until help arrived. I get all emotional just thinking of her. It was her Friday night. There was no reason for her to stop and get involved, but she did. I still don’t know where she came from. She might have been one of the people in the car. I’ll never know her name, but I will never forget her. THAT is humanity, Rob. I had forgotten.
In fact, this entire night was God tripping me all over again, reminding me what a fucking dumb ass I can be. I can just imaging God up there, “How can I get through to this idiot that all people don’t suck? Oh I know …” But that wasn’t the end of it. There were still plenty more amazing people to come on my bloodied path.
Maria and Ben were my paramedics. Ben was so bubbling and amazing. You would think that picking up broken people all day would eventually wear you down, but not Ben, and not Maria. They were smiling the whole time helping me out. Keeping me smiling through my toothless, bloody face. These amazing people choose this life. Every single day they take part in a broken system to help people in need despite all the corporate greed and political fuck-up that is American medical system. Ben and Maria don’t care. They know it’s the best we have and they have committed their lives to living in the broken system even if means all they can do is what they can in spite of the system. Do they languish in anguish over the state of humanity? Do they do tik-tok and Insta all day? Maybe, but not when they were patching my old face up and cutting off my pants. Two more people I will never forget.
While waiting for my turn to be seen by the ER doc I realized I was still streaming, just not from my IRL rig. I checked my phone. And as if God or Doris’ Pixie knocked it out of my bag, my backup battery for my phone fell out of my bag onto the floor. An orderly saw it and gave it to me just as I realized my phone was at 2% and about to die. I plugged it in and had my entire streaming community there worried and wishing me the best. I always say that my friends on Twitch are my friends, and boy did they seem like it then. I know I’ve never met some of them, and may never meet them, but my God, they are real friends to me. While the chills started hitting me from shock of staring at the ceiling wondering about everything I found them and they kept me laughing all the way through it. Seriously, I think it helped keep me from going deeper into shock. People sent me private messages with their personal contact information and everything. These people, as much as they love to troll me, really cared. I’ve always known that, but it was a great reminder.
While I was laying there with the neck brace on wondering if I’d broken my neck (which I didn’t, thank God) I had the unfortunately opportunity to hear what the ER goes through on a Friday night: people vomiting all over; drunk/autistic dude wandering around almost busting his head open falling having the hospital cops lock him up, then watching him break out and them call an emergency to get all the staff to tackle the guy and put him back into the room; the elderly woman and her husband having breathing problems; and all the doctors and nurses and orderlies and cops trying to keep the place from devolving into whatever it would become otherwise. I gained such an appreciation for every one of those strangers, including those who were there for whatever reason. The drunk autistic guy was particularly hard for me to take in.
Doris arrived to watch all of that as well. We both were very aware that could happen to any or our sons as well given a different circumstance? Where were that guys parents? Friends? He had no one. I had Doris. Her worried German eyes never teared up. I got her to grin a few times. She packed me up a bag of clothes not even knowing where I was or if I would be staying in the hospital. She was obviously worried, but didn’t show it. She’s such a rock, for everyone. That’s what everyone keeps telling her at the McColl. I’m the lucky bastard who gets to call her my wife. Doris and I have been going through some trouble recently, stupid shit really, and there’s never been a moment where my stupidity was more fully realized. I could hear God again, “Hey dumb-ass, remember this woman I hand delivered to you in a way that you could never forget I exist? Yeah, treat her right, you fucking moron.” (That’s how God talks in my head.)
They took me away for CT scans. What a zen experience that was, all the pretty colors. I think I might have been drunk a little still which made it all the more intense. It was like I was in some scene from Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. I was mesmerized. I wanted more.
Another doc took a bunch of X-rays. Nothing broken. Amazing sense of humor on that guy.
Another male nurse cleaned up my gross beard getting as much blood out as possible. He was like “oh shit” when he uncovered my lip laceration (that I got 3 stitched for later).
Later the ER doc would come in. My wife called him a “TV doctor” (meaning she thought he was hot, and he was). Strangely, while making small conversation as he stitched up my face we ended up talking about the state of the human condition and the lack of dialog. We both got legitimately into it. He was clearly from a more conservative place. We even talked about America and Europe and everything. In fact, I wonder how long we were there, because we had a very stimulating conversation while he sewed up my bloody face. When he left he said, “thank you” in a way that was very clearly sincere. He was all excited about talking about that stuff, almost like he doesn’t get to talk to people much about that stuff in his line of work. I would never have imagined such a cool conversation could have happened in those conditions, but it did. Again, humans rock.
It was Doris’ night and I hate that I had to take it all over with this crap. She never once said anything about it, just happy I was okay. I joked about upping my life insurance payout and she said, “Well then I’d just have more reason to kill you.” Yeah, our sense of humor is really fucking demented. We laughed enough to hurt my face and made it home watching the sunrise in the final few miles. We went in, Sam sniffed me a lot but never got worried, “What, no eggs tonight?” I had a shower, and collapsed. So did they.
Earlier that night at the pub I pulled up my phone to exchange Instagrams with Surf (the Videographer hired by Apple, etc.) and the time was 11:11. To numerologists this means “a new beginning”. I never got into that shit, but my wife likes to play with it. I hate to say it, but I feel like all of this has been a very distinct starting point for something very new, a new Rob perhaps, but maybe more.
Every time I give into the urge to run my tongue over my missing teeth I’ll remember all of these amazing people and know that humans are awesome and amazing, that these people working a late Friday-night shift, that few people ever see, that they that matter. You won’t hear about them. They don’t do social media much. They’re too busy being awesome. But they are there and they matter. I can never forget that, again.