The moral of the story

The moral of the story

By Josh Salm/Staff Writer
Date published: Dec. 24, 2008

Ever hear the story about two men on a porch? The homeowner is sitting on his porch when he hears a warning over the radio of a wicked rainstorm that will likely cause some serious flooding. His buddy goes to him, “Hey, we should get out of here. This sounds bad.” The homeowner says, “Naw, don't worry about it. God will save me.”
When it’s raining, a guy drives by in his truck and yells at the homeowner on his porch, “Listen, hop in and we’ll go to higher ground.” The homeowner politely declines, saying “God will save me.”
Finally, the water’s up to his roofline and still climbing. A boater comes past and hollers at him, “Bud, get in. You won’t make it.” Through the pounding rains and wind, the homeowner yells back, “I'll be fine. God will save me.”
Unfortunately, the homeowner doesn’t survive the storm. He reaches the gates of St. Peter, turns to God and says, “Hey, what happened? You were supposed to save me!” God looks at the homeowner and says, “I sent a radio report, your friend, a passer-by in a truck and a man in a boat to help you. How many more ways do you want me to give you the message to get out?”
I’m not telling anyone start heading for the hills because the Piscataquis is rising. Thankfully it’s finally freezing over actually. Bring on the winter … well, at least the ice so I can get a little ice fishing in.
What I am saying, however, is two events in a 16-hour span last week reminded me of that story. And the Great Message that was sent my way? Slow down.
It started Tuesday night. I could feel in my chest my heart was fluttering about a bit and I know from past experiences that any heart questions are not to be taken lightly. After an EKG test, the doctor tells me, “Let me go talk to a colleague about this. Hold on a second.”
No one wants to hear a line like that from a doctor, unless he somehow came back and declared all medical payments are on the house.
After a 15 minute wait that tested that heart flutter a little more than I would have liked, he came back 15 minutes later to tell me I had an early heart beat.
Well, I did, until that moment when my heart skipped a beat.
It ends up that this is not as serious as it could be. I found out three days later that the hiccup in my heart probably came from a not-so-great mixture of cold medications with a decongestant, coffee and beer.
Anyway, so that was Tuesday night. The next morning, as I traveled to work along Rt. 16 just north of Alton along those rolling S-curves my 1999 Ford Taurus turned into a snow sled. One fishtail, two fishtailes, three fishtailes. I thought I had it saved ... until the back end of my car made a final fourth fishtail. My car slid perpendicular to Rt. 16 with my front windshield facing the woods.
I remember the breakaway tempered glass fly past my face as the car got T-boned by that Maine icon, a pine tree. I don't remember my car pivoting from the tree and sliding slowly downhill a few feet before stopping. It happened so quick. I did that quick check of my surroundings – no pain, no blood, no one else is hurt, no fire – and realized I was alright.
I had to shimmy out my driver’s side window in a classic Dukes of Hazzard move because my door was stuck shut. After a quick 911 phone call, I sat there and waited for the Penobscot County Sheriff and a wrecker to arrive.
It was during that wait where I remembered that story, and remembered that lesson.
I'm 25. I'm at that age where the immorality of our youth hits the brick wall – or in my case, a pine tree – and we are forced to grips with reality. When we’re young, we all believe nothing can stop us. Then, there comes a day when we all realize just how fragile life is, whether it happens in a singular event or over the course of time.
Those 16 hours could have been a lot worse. This “normal” condition could be not so normal, and not so quaint. Instead, with a little exercise, less coffee and time, this should go away.
I also could have gotten in a serious accident and hurt myself, or worse, someone else. Instead, I missed a protruding fiber optics box by 10-feet, hit that tree in a spot where my car took all that impact instead of spinning off into the woods, and I walked away from that crash without a scratch.
I got the hint, oh Big and Almighty Guy in the Sky. Slow down. I'm on it.
Just bring on the cold weather so I can go ice fishing.
From my house to yours, everyone have a safe, warm and Merry Christmas and Happy New Year. And remember, slow down and enjoy it. Like the comedian Bill Engvall says, “Here's your sign …”