Thursday, September 25, 2008



Lots of people dream about losing their teeth. I wouldn't call that a phobia so much as a collective-unconscious-fear-thing.

Well, just to be clear, that's not what I'm talking about here. What I'm talking about is a phobia. Or just a fallacious way of thinking. I don't know. I'm thinking too hard.

Here's the story. One night I parked my car on my friend's farm in Michigan. I left the window down. It was a warm night. Balmy. I had a beer, hung out, then it was time to go home. Well, driving back to my place I became consumed by the idea that a raccoon had climbed in the window, fallen asleep in the back seat, and was, as I drove, just waiting for the right moment to pounce. I kept turning around, searching for the critter in the pitch black, waving my hands around in the air, all the while, bracing myself for the moment he bit.

Crazy, right?

Well, that raccoon has become a little bit of a symbol for me. A symbol of all the stifling things I let myself believe, all the things I let cloud my enjoyment of this long, pleasant ride home we call life.

So here's to getting rid of the non-existant raccoons in the car. (And hats that make you look like a turkey...)

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