The Newtown Pentacle

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Posts Tagged ‘Vehicle Accident

bright again

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An accidental encountered.

– photo by Mitch Waxman

Whilst perambulating to the gustatory battlefield which is the Thanksgiving ritual feast table, Our Lady of the Pentacle and myself encountered an “accidental” along the way. We missed the moment of kinetic contact betwixt the two motor vehicles, but the aftermath was spread out along the intersection of 45th street and Broadway, here in Astoria, for all to see. By all appearances, at least one of these vehicles – possibly both – were moving at quite a clip where they collided. There didn’t seem to be any obvious injuries, or at least there weren’t any pooling puddles of blood or other human juices.

I’ve always wondered if human blood could be called a juice. Maybe it’s a broth, or a gravy? I guess it depends on your dietary preferences, huh?

– photo by Mitch Waxman

I’m not a fan of the archaic yellow cab industry, and display zero sympathy for either drivers or medallion owners. A half century lived in NYC has imparted a sour taste in my mouth towards these stalwart livery service workers and the oligarchs they work for. Saying that, I hope the driver didn’t suffer any injuries other than losing the day’s earnings and what will end up being a substantial repair bill at the auto mechanic.

I recognize the white car from the neighborhood. One of the many vehicles which have been tuned up to make as much noise during normal operation as possible – it’s part of what we’ve come to refer to as the “fast and furious” crowd here in the local zone. Alterations of the proper functioning of the carburetor and fuel injection systems increase engine noise, often resulting in backfires as they sit in traffic. This crackling explosive sound must somehow excite the females in their social circles, and encourage them into mating with the drivers, which must be why the males who perform these noisy alterations risk the concurrent damage to their expensive automobile’s engines and exhaust systems.

The endless permutations of primate display behaviors offered by the human infestation hereabouts is fascinating to one such as myself.

– photo by Mitch Waxman

We didn’t stick around to see the cops show up, nor the tow trucks and ambulances which usually follow the constabulary into situations such as this. Our grandiose feast and celebration of American abundance awaited.

One was busy cooking for most of the morning, assembling the contributions to the Thanksgiving meal which Our Lady and myself were participating in. I was trying to avoid all social media on Thanksgiving, since my friends who are “woke” were passing the time waiting for their feast to emerge from the kitchen reminding all who might listen about just how shit the world is, was, and will be. Additionally, they needed to remind the universe about the Native American genocide as well as imparting the importance of composting the inedible portions of the feast. Bah!

Take a day off, I say.

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Written by Mitch Waxman

December 4, 2019 at 1:00 pm

ever permitted

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– photo by Mitch Waxman

Pulsing and pallid, that corpulent jelly which comprises my physical domain and imprisons my conscious mind was carrying me down Jackson Avenue in Long Island City and past the fabled Court Square Diner, whereupon a face melting realization of a recent vehicular disaster confronted me. It would seem that the MTA department of the municipality has one less truck in its fleet roster.

– photo by Mitch Waxman

As painful as it would be for them to encounter a creature such as myself, contact was made with the MTA employees who were vouchsafing the wreck while awaiting a tow vehicle which would secure its disposition.

Note: It isn’t fair to inflict my nauseous presence on the unsuspecting innocents who surround me, nor is it alright to ask them to endure the many disgusting qualities of what might be described as my “vocalizations.” Selfishly, I elected to attempt contact with one of the humans, in an attempt to find out what happened. Apologies offered to all offended parties. Don’t hurt me.

Queries as to the well being of the driver were answered by assurances of continuing good health, but adherence to an institutional policy which required visiting a hospital to professionally confirm and assess said status was obeyed and that was where the driver found himself.

– photo by Mitch Waxman

A smell of refined petroleum derivates hung in the air, and once contact with this clearly shaken employee of the great human hive was reliably completed, my camera found itself employed. Indications offered by that stalwart representative opined that the municipal truck was operated in accordance with traffic regulation, but that another large vehicle was not, which resulted in a collision.

The area is well patrolled by security cameras, one would presume this will be an easy supposition to corroborate thusly.

– photo by Mitch Waxman

The reportage continued that the MTA truck had careened off the second vehicle and the driver lost control of the heavy vehicle. The truck’s wild course carried it away from the equator of the street and in the process it eliminated a metal lamp post and crashed up on the pedestrian lane, known colloquially and conventionally as the sidewalk.

Nervous anticipation nagged at me, as wild paranoid wonderings about sparks falling from the elevated subway tracks mixing with… the petroleum vapors… no… such things do not happen… At this moment, my headphones were back in place and playing through a long list of songs- thats when this random ditty started piping directly into my auditory orifices.

I spun around and started walking toward Astoria in a loose dog trot.

extreme aspirations

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– photo by Mitch Waxman

Obligation had carried me away from Astoria yesterday, and upon my return, I discovered this scene playing out. A police cruiser, taxi, and two other vehicles had been smashed. I checked with one of the officers on the scene, who told me that it seemed as if his compatriots who were in the wreck were going to be OK. I missed all the action, apparently.

Additional inquiries regarding the event were offered to the multitudes of neighbors milling about, and one of them volunteered to guest blog.

– photo by Mitch Waxman

The following text was received from today’s guest blogger- a member of our local gentry, a yenta, and itinerant area wag who wishes to be called Mr. Blogovich.

Blogovich is a respectably sturdy Croat of long neighborhood affiliation and good reputation, despite his bizarre and unconventional manner of dress. His comments and observations follow in italics:

“Pieced together from many perspectives:

The police car came into the intersection doing 80-100, sirens and lights going.

It clipped the dip in the street, back right tire probably popping and locking there.

– photo by Mitch Waxman

It went down about 200-300 feet, fishtailed to the right, its back right bumper slapping into the bumper of the white Nissan Sentra.

Impact and momentum pushed it to the left side of the street. It went about 30 feet to impact with a black SUV with cement bags in its back hatch.

This lifted the black SUV up a bit and piled it directly into a taxi cab that was parked in front of it, with a spray of cement powder flying everywhere.

Three very lucky people were standing about 6 feet from the place of initial impact. A foot worth of tilt to the left and the cop car would have plowed into them and taken them out.

– photo by Mr. Blogovich

Directly after the impact with the black SUV the back end of the cop car swerved to the left and impacted with the black iron fence next to XXXXX’s house.

It was at this point I booked down the street shirtless.

I got there in time to see the two cops staggering slightly out of the car. The airbags deployed. I shouted, “Are you guys okay?”

The driving officer immediately asked, “Did anyone see the little girl I swerved for?” or some such.

Why did he not ask, “Is the little girl alright?”

– photo by Mr. Blogovich

Oil was cascading out of the bottom. The car was still on. A bystander told the passenger cop to turn the motor off.

I offered them water if needed, asked them if they were ok. The driving officer said, ” I’ll be okay if I get a witness who saw the little girl.”

The response sirens were almost immediate. Not ten seconds after I arrived on the scene.

The response was IMMENSE.

  • Conservative estimates:
  • 8 cop cars, all told.
  • 4 fire trucks.
  • 4-5 ambulances. These are not counting the response vehicles that didn’t even turn down the street.

– photo by Mitch Waxman

The street became congested with the response team.

Cops pulled all tools and gear out of the car. The two cops service belts were stored away.

All the owners of each vehicle were interviewed.

Oddly, at least initially, the three main witnesses who could have nearly died, were not.”

Wow, says a humble narrator. Thanks to Mr. Blogovich for all the details, and use of his photos.


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Written by Mitch Waxman

July 18, 2012 at 2:27 am

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