Michael Douglas Firbanks Cheats Death : A Subaru Story

In the wild of civilized human existence, it is well established that there are Mondays and then there are MONdays. The following account is of the latter variety.

For the context of this story it should be known I have recently become employed with a dog-walking company in the greater Sacramento region. It was en route to one such dog walk that the following events ensued. Everything was pretty routine in the arrival. As there wasn’t much space on the street for parking, I drove up the rather inclined driveway, parking at the top, intending to ask the owner if such an arrangement should be agreeable. I assembled my belongings, making certain to have sun hat in hand and fanny pack of doggie bags set securely around my waist. As all was in order, I proceeded to approach the front door. Ringing the doorbell, I awaited the answer, rehearsing in my head my intended first lines of verbal communication. My internal monologue was halted abruptly, however, by the faintest of sinister sounds. How did I even know that something was amiss? It could have only barely been audible. And yet I heard it, the soft roll of wheels in motion. Wheels in motion where no wheels should be in motion.

As I rushed around the corner my brain had trouble processing what my eyes were in fact seeing. My dear Mary’s Subaru attempting its desperate getaway. Had we treated you so very horribly? Was it really so bad that you would attempt to abandon us so dramatically? Didn’t we take you to exciting destinations? Hadn’t we only just filled your windshield wiper fluid to the brim? I don’t understand. What more could he want?

And yet, he only picked up speed down the side of the driveway. With little regard for my feelings.

Michael Douglas Firbanks, free at last.

I chased after him, scrambling simultaneously for the keys whilst chanting “oh crap oh crap oh crap!” As if this mantra would cease the Subaru’s tragic trajectory. It did not. Douglas ramped up the rocky incline back onto the road slowing his momentum. Surely this was my opportunity! I ran full speed towards him, thinking what? That I was gonna jump inside and yank the e-brake before he reached the drop on the other side? Who am I, Ethan friggin’ Hawke? And, yet, in my mind’s eye, that’s exactly what I was going to do. Unfortunately, or perhaps fortunately, I was too far away to even make such an attempt. His slow crawl lasted only seconds before he teetered over the edge making another drastic descent. My heart plummeted with it.

I watched helplessly as Douglas charged with gusto towards two well rooted trees. Well, this is it, I thought. That momentum combined with two stationary objects equates to serious vehicular damage. Bon Voyage, Señor Firbanks, it was nice knowin’ ya. I’ll add your shattered remains to the already insurmountable debt I owe to my greatest and most generous friend.

And yet, what was this? Defying science and reason, Douglas collided with neither tree, opting instead to slide perfectly between them and slow to a cozy tree surrounded stop. I stared in disbelief.

True, his face had been ripped off, but no other serious damage had taken place. And as Shakespeare says “what’s in a face?”

With the help of two paid professionals, we coaxed Douglas out of the ditch and I drove him home in all his faceless glory. A half an hour later, by the wizarding power of one Reg Jensen, his face was reassembled. Besides a small dent in the back where he’d knocked down a flood pole, Douglas looked virtually the same as pre-ghost ride.

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So what was the point of this? Why did this even happen? I can’t say that I have every answer to that question in the present, but I do know that I spent two hours that morning talking with God, surrendering my day to him. That fact was flashing in my brain like fireworks during the aforementioned events. “I gave this day to you, God, so that means this is what you wanted to happen.” “How do you want me to handle this situation?” “What am I supposed to learn from this?”

I have no doubt that I will continue to learn new things from this experience upon further reflection, but as of now, here are some of my take aways.

Firstly, and most obviously, the aspect of God’s sovereignty (aka He’s in control). This accident could have been much much worse, but it really has been almost painless. The owner of the house used his AAA, so the tow out of the ditch was paid for. The car didn’t hit anyone or anything, so that’s a major relief. If the car had rolled directly down the driveway, it would have found its resting place in the side of the neighbor’s house. Stephanie Tanner can testify that that outcome isn’t ideal.

Although some may argue, “was God in control that he let the car roll out of the driveway in the first place?” My answer would be a bold, “haaaail yes!” Nothing confirms God’s care for us like a major crisis averted. We come to terms with the frailty of life and material possessions, and shift our perspective to the things that matter.

In the end, Michael Douglas Firbanks is just a car. And it’s only a matter of time before he meets his maker, whether by collision or the deterioration of old age. Why let that get your feathers all ruffled?

"For this is the day the Lord has made, I will rejoice and be glad in it." -Psalm 118:24