FORGET ME NOT?
Anybody can die of anything anytime. It’s a fact. You, me, anyone — we could step into the street and get hit by a bus. Be struck by lightning. Fall down, break our skull. We could be tooling along on the way to the grocery store and get broadsided by a truck.
The likelihood of imminent demise is statistically higher for some of us. By definition, the longer you live, the closer comes your last day on Earth. Unless you are my ex-mother-in-law. She lived to 104. We thought she might have beaten the odds — a special case — but in the end, she succumbed. Not, however, without a fight.
Me, I’m another story. I’m almost dying every day. Nobody — certainly not me — would bet two cents on my survival. Yet here I am. If not standing straight and tall, than at least crouching crooked and hunched. Let’s not be picky. I’m here, right?
I have been hit by meteorites. Not once. Several times.
It seems post-meteorite hit technology has come a long way. Although each hit whacked me senseless and knocked me off my feet, I managed to climb up again. A little the worse for wear, but breathing. Maybe more like gasping, but moving air.
Over all, it’s best to avoid meteorites, but if you are in the known trajectory of an oncoming extraterrestrial object, there are a number of strategies worth trying.
Duck. Hide. Run away. Roll into a ball and play dead. If these don’t do it, figure on having a really bad headache and some scars. And a great story to tell to your friends, later.
My legacy? Really, you want to know my legacy? How about surviving multiple hits by flying junk from outer space? If that’s not enough, I took some pretty pictures. Wrote some stuff, too.
That should do it, you think?