The Boston Diaries

The ongoing saga of a programmer who doesn't live in Boston, nor does he even like Boston, but yet named his weblog/journal “The Boston Diaries.”

Go figure.

Sunday, May 05, 2002

Slow motion wreck

75% of all car accidents happen within five miles of home.

And 95% of all statistics are made up on the spot.

It depends upon what your definition of home is.

Considering I have yet to sell Condo Conner, I guess technically it could still be considered home.

And I was less than 100 yards away.

As you drive along 35th Street to Condo Conner (it's hardly a street—more like an extended parking lot) there's a section where it opens up and you can continue straight or bear to the right; the street more or less opens up into a parking lot with an island in the middle. I tend to bear right as it's a bit quicker than going around the island to the reserved parking spot for Condo Conner.

Along the right side of this curve are a series of parking spots so you end up driving quite close to the back sides of cars. We just cleared an SUV when Spring screamed. As a passenger she tends to do that when she feels an imminent collision between my car (Lake Lumina) and another object, moving or stationary it doesn't matter. And when she screams in fear of an imminent collision between my car (Lake Lumina) and another object, moving or stationary it doesn't matter, I immediately slam on the breaks to stop the car and spend the next minute or so wondering what Spring is screaming about (since obviously I didn't see an immiment collision between my car (Lake Lumina) and another object, moving or stationary it doesn't matter). I'm not blaming Spring for this reaction by the way; I would probably scream too durring an immiment collision between my car (Lake Lumina) and another object, moving or stationary it doesn't matter.

“That car almost backed up into us,” said Spring. I'm looking around trying to figure out what's happening. “Oh no,” she said. “I think he's going to hit us.” I'm still floundering like a beached flounder.




The man was still oblivious to a large Chevy Lumina behind him and had continued backing out.

The passenger back door has a large dent. The Accident Investigator issued no citations, as he deemed no one at fault due to the SUV being in both our light of sights.


The Oppressive Condo Commando Regime

Life is funny. Live fourteen years in a home and I barely know any neighbors. Move out, and I keep running into them (quite literally in some cases).

While waiting for the Accident Investigator to show up, two of my ex-neighbors came driving up and asking how I'm doing and what's going on (and one ex-neighbor had already moved out of her condo; what she was doing back there I don't know). And the gentleman I ran into not only knew of me, but had known my Mom and Grandma when they both lived there.

And it turns out he too is sick of the Condo Commandos and if he had the choice, would sell his unit and leave.

When senior citizens start complaining about the Condo Commandos, you just know it's got to be bad.

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