When I left my office tonight, (I was waiting for an income tax client to show up for her appointment. She called me at 9:00 pm to tell me she went straight home and forgot to call me. This happens.) I thought about the various winter driving tips I'd shared with my January Point and Insurance Reduction Workshop class.
"During a snowstorm, supress your ego and put your car in first gear and crawl. Better still, park the car and stay in the house. There is absolutely no reason to have your car in drive when there is snow or ice on the road.
"And don't forget to remove all of the snow and ice from your vehicle. For your safety, you'll have relatively clear fields of vision. For other drivers' safety, they won't have to worry about snow and ice flying from your vehicle and smacking their windshields."
So, I cleaned off the car, put it in first gear, and started to crawl home.
Talk about your empty roads. On Vanderbilt Avenue, there was only me and an Evelyn Car Service car. I experienced the joy of solitude circling the Grand Army Plaza rotary. I was shocked to see no evidence of any accidents.
My joy was short-lived as I drove down the hill on Flatbush Avenue. There, about 75 yards away from the entrance to the Prospect Park Wildlife Center, were the remains of an accident between a parked tractor-trailer and a sedan.
The tractor-trailer won.
The impact was so great the air bags deployed. And any ambulance driver will tell you that once the airbags deploy, someone is usually on their way to the emergency room.
What caused the accident? Looking at the markings in the snow I could only surmise the driver lost control when they crested the hill before the long downslope, or tried to avoid another driver's reckless driving.
Whatever the reason, you have to hope the driver of the vehicle and any passengers will survive this accident.
And why do I think the accident could have involved another driver? While I was crawling my way along Ocean Avenue, a stupid idiot in an SUV suddenly got right up on my tail and started to flash their high beams.
I kept crawling.
They kept flashing. And started to honk, too.
Finally, I relented in my quest to keep this fool alive, and pulled over so some deity could take their wheel. Big Dummy flashed past, made the right on Newkirk, and kept on truckin'.
I did get a look at their license plate. Florida, of all places.
I guess they took umbrage with my recent Facebook timeline.
Dear readers, in this and every dangerous weather condition, alway remember it's okay to crawl home.