Guardrails? Who Needs Them.

Once again it's time for me to share with you (all 3 of you) something interesting and insightful from my life. Unfortunately, it's been as dull as a letter opener, so I'll have to borrow something exciting from someone else's. Today's blog is about the irony of life, and how it can be used to gain appreciation for an otherwise meaningless existance.
It was with great pride and enthusiasm that my friend Rob showed off his new truck to me. After giving him the obligatory shot for not supporting one of the American auto makers, I congratulated him on his wise purchase. When I asked him how much he got for his old one, he proceeded to tell me about the wreck.
Rob was returning from Tampa late one night, after yet, another uneventful blind date. Tired and in a hurry to get back home, he had just about convinced himself that this was the last time he would drive long distance to one of these, when a set of headlights seem to appear out of nowhere. It took Rob about 3 seconds to realize that this car was heading north on the southbound side of interstate 75, and that a head on collision was imminent. With a sudden jerk of the wheel, he avoided certain death, only to realize that now, his life was officially, "out of control." In an attempt to regain control, he oversteered slightly, so that the truck slid sideways and was plummeting at 75 mph into the dark unknowable future. Slipping off the highway and onto the grassy median, Rob braced himself for the possibility of a high speed roll over crash. To the contrary, Rob soon realized that vehicle was quite stable, but was inching closer and closer to the headlights of the north bound traffic. Instinctively, he closed his eyes. Who wants to see their own death? Or maybe it was to say one last solemn prayer before meeting his maker face to face. Anyway, the truck slamed into something hard, but not as violently as he had anticipated.
The anxiety, adrenaline and fear that had commandeered the steering wheel of his life seemed to release its grip as Rob regained his senses. He was stopped. His truck was mangled up against a guard rail. It had prevented him from careening into the oncoming traffic. He was alive and unhurt!
These guardrails had just been installed. I noticed them going in, but never gave them a second thought. My friend however admitted to me that he had been complaining about them since they first appeared. He remembered reading that the cost for our county alone was like $12 million. Several times since, he had grumbled to himself while driving down the highway, about how expensive they were going to be to maintain. No longer could a large gang mower alone do the job, but now, someone would have to hand mow around each post and under each rail. He was absolutely right, but....
What all this means I'm not quite sure, accept that I'm glad that Rob is still alive. And the next time that your life gets sideways, remember that there maybe some method behind the madness that surrounds you.