Driving.
Somehow millions of us go hurtling by each other mere inches away in multiple tons of steel, often in conditions less than ideal yet for the most part, it’s a safe way to travel.
We can’t even collectively agree on most topics, yet we put our lives in each others’ hands every day.
Even disregarding all the other drivers, we put ourselves in a metal can, hurtle towards solid objects, and simply count on the idea that on average, nothing catastrophic will happen.
Pure, random chance is enough to end us - animal pops into the road, a tree randomly falling, etc. - yet there we go, on yet another daily commute.
I have a long commute through the “middle of nowhere” so lots of time to think about things that ought to be downright terrifying. The thought of hitting one moose is bad. Never occurred to me until just the other day that two moose was not out of the realm of possibility.
Not just merely a machine powered by explosions, sitting on volatile liquids… but one in which we’ve decided that it’s also a great place to enjoy some music, maybe a nice beverage, and as a great way to take our attention off into vast distances to the sides to “see the sights”.
I think to myself as I steer with one knee, trying to simultaneously drink my coffee and light a cigarette…