Numbers

*22 and 66*

I suppose it was about 22 years ago when a guy in a big car sped down Cemetery Road by my house and hit a kid.

I heard the long squeal of the tires as he tried in vain to stop.

What I know:

I saw him hit that kid.

I ran to the ditch where he landed.

I no longer have those images in my head. Trauma is the strangest damn thing. I've got words for what I saw (though I'll spare you), but the pictures that go along with the memory are just wiped clean. They just never made it to from short-term memory to long-term memory.

The newspaper said he was thrown 66 feet by the impact.

The kid lived, busted up though he was.

***

*1*

My classmate who lived one mile away asked me on the bus the next morning what that terrible scream she heard was.

That would have been the child's mother, screaming at the scene.

***

*50 and 60*

I'd guess the big pickup truck pulling the trailer managed to reach about 50 mph between the street and the far back end of the daycare parking lot.

It's a big lot, and I see "new" cars with grease pencil numbers on the windshields back there sometimes. I guess the church/daycare has some sort of agreement with someone to store a few vehicles back there.

The truck pulled up by those cars, and the driver hopped out.

I figure that the pickup and trailer combination was about 60 feet long.

***

*8*

That's when International Wife's train was due to depart, so I had to keep moving, to take THEBOY to school and her to the train depot, instead of having a discussion with the pickup driver as we drove (slowly, thank you) around the back of the daycare to eyeball the Jerk.

But I came back after the train depot.

***

*50*

That's about the percentage of the ugly note I'd written for his windshield when a school administrator pulled up. Not sure where the Jerk was. Maybe he was driving one of those cars somewhere.

She and I had a discussion, and she assured me she'd talk to the big boss about it. I crumpled up the note.

***

*100*

That's my remaining percentage of pissed-offedness about the whole thing.

***

*1 and 12 and 100 and 2*

I attended one martial arts class last night, kickboxing. It went well.

But belt test is coming up, and I mean to work hard on endurance, so I went to the track last night for a dozen 100-yard windsprints.

I plan to attend a couple martial arts classes today.

***

*4 and 5 and 7 and 100*

I'd run four windsprints when I began to question the wisdom of working out so hard.

Tomorrow night I may join Henley in a five-mile race in Dallas at 7pm. It'll likely still be close to 100 degrees at that point.

***

*62*

That's the UFC pay-per-view I'll be watching with my buddy Ken this Saturday. Coooooool.

***

*160 and 157*

I weighed 160lbs before kickboxing. I weighed 157 when I returned from the windsprints.

***

*38*

That's how old I'll be a week from today.

***

Happy Tuesday.