Thursday, March 27, 2008

Windshields: A Stoned Reflection

While I was visiting Jesse, Corey, and Zelda in Louisiana, we watched Forest Gump for the 800th time. Well, Jesse and I watched it as Corey played a computer-based game and Zelda jumped on the inflatable mattress I bought.

Everytime I watch Forest Gump, something new jumps out at me. Usually some detail jogs my memory. This time, it was the scene where Jenny and Forest walk by her childhood home. She gets so unnerved by the sight of it, she boils over and starts hurling rocks at the dilapidated, abandoned building, breaking a few filthy windows during the effort.

Forest's voice-over talks about how he felt her pain and that, "sometimes, there are just not enough rocks" (to throw). I can only speak for myself when I say that I've wanted more rocks at times. I don't think I had the same root-anger Jenny displays, but there were times which may have flirted with that level, at least on my personal scale.

Even if times are not all that earth shattering, there are times when I fantasize about hurling a few pebbles at a minimum.

Let's consider the current state of my car's windshield. A few weeks ago I was at a friend's home during a powerful wind and rain storm. From the warm side of the home's window, the only obvious storm-related damage was scattered amputated tree limbs littering the lawn. But, sadly, no. Her husband's brand new Mercedes sedan parked next to my 1997 Saturn (christened Mosby) came away unscathed, but my Mosby's windshield was mortally wounded. Sharded streams branched over the passenger side vantage point from top to bottom with two rather pointed damage epicenters.

During my time in Louisiana, I agreed to leave my car parked unlocked so the insurance company's repair service could take care of Mosby. A friend emailed me several times alerting me that my windshield remained unimproved. Two days after my return home, it is the same. A month later, sucess is mine. And Mosby's. Now I can lay my stone down for another time.

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