THE THREE MUSKETEERS GO ON A NOT-SO-GREAT ADVENTURE

In life, there are highs and lows. Over the weekend, I had one of the highest highs in recent memory: rockin' Green Day concert, crazy night at the daiquiri shop, a successful Sports Saturday, plus other stuff maybe I'll talk about later. 

I should have known better than to think this high would last into Monday when Paul, Minkus and I planned to attend Saints training camp and make a day of it. 

On the way to pick up Minkus at 7 a.m., I took a sip of orange juice right after I turned onto his street (basically across the highway from me). And that's when this happened ... 

My poor baby. Everyone cry with me. That happened at about 15 mph.

As I put down the orange juice, I looked at the road ahead to find a car in my path. I swerved as quickly and as much as I could, but I failed to avoid the accident. Oh wait. One more detail. The car I hit. Yeah, it was parked. 

Why do these accidents always f up my car worse than the other guy?
The morning turned into quite an event. Here Paul and Minkus, beautiful troopers that they were for hanging out with me through the hoopla that is the aftermath of an accident, take a break in the shade. Let's take a brief look at the madness after I had my first accident since October 2003. 

At impact, it didn't feel like the accident was that bad. I thought my car was going to look like the other car. I even tried to swing back around and park next to the other car before alerting any authorities. As you can see above, part of the car was jammed into the tire, so I had to stop almost in the middle of the street. 

The collision made such a big noise that no one came outside for the next 20 minutes. Eventually, our participants were Minkus, Paul, me, Tina, Minkus' mother, guy cop, girl cop, tow truck man No. 1, tow truck man No. 2, neighbor No. 1, neighbor No. 2, owner of the other car, owner of the other car's husband, who handled the negotiations. 

I spent more than an hour on the phone talking to Volkswagon, GEICO, the towing company and the body shop place. Everyone I talked to was incredibly nice, but I won't bore you with those details. 

How's this for fascinating? The owner of the car thought I wasn't all there. "How could this happen? He must have been speeding down the street. He had to be drunk. I want a breathalyzer test." 

For Paul, the highlight was when Tina showed up (before the tow truck and cop and before the other owner even knew). Obviously, she freaked out. But the funny part was her ripping apart the car. You read that right. Basically throwing loose parts around and trying to unhinge the car from being stuck in the tire. A sight to behold, indeed.

In the end, my car ended up at a body shop in Elmwood. It's getting assessed tomorrow. I got a ticket for "failure to maintain control." Court date is Oct. 6. 

So much for those low-insurance rates I just achieved by turning 25. And yeah, it wasn't a brief explanation. But damned if it wasn't entertaining. 

 
Wawwwwwwwwwww!!!!!!!
What the heck, we went to Saints camp anyway and caught the final 43 minutes of offense-vs.-defense drills. And this punt drill, where Red Meat fields the ball. Pretty cool picture. 

This picture will not be appearing on the front cover of the Minnesota Vikings media guide. 

Highlights of the practice:

-- Shockey missing two perfectly placed deep balls from Brees. I was shocked.

-- Brees and Colston. What a combo. Saw them connect five times, the fourth being a diving catch by Colston between two defenders. Somehow this was not the T-P's Play of the Day. 

-- During the portion where players signed autographs, running back Mike Bell, who is in danger of losing his third-string spot due to fumbles, dropped a football that he was trying to sign for a kid. Me: "Fummmmbbbblllleeee!!!!!" 

-- I saw Christina for the first time since her wedding. She was working for her new PR company. Her client is McDonald's, and she was passing out coupons. So, that was awesome. 

The adventure didn't end there folks. We hit up P.F. Chang's for lunch, browsed the mall and had some Coldstone ice cream for a cheer-me up. 

At one point in the afternoon, Paul looked quizzically at Minkus. 

Paul: Sometimes I wonder about that boy. He does some dumb things. 

Me: Hey, I crashed into a parked car earlier. 

THE TINA CURSING CORNER

As you might imagine, this entry is dedicated purely to the crashing of my car, which was perfectly perfect for 2 years, 1 month and 3 days. 

In summary of the day: "You fucked up." Then later. "You fucked yourself." 

When I first got mom on the phone shortly after the accident, she offered this almost inconceivable advice. "You have two choices. Either leave and get out because nobody has seen you or go knock on the fucking door and tell them." (Wow.)

Right before that advice. "Oh my fucking god. What have you done?" 

"What the fuck were you doing in the left hand lane?" (I made a wide turn?)

"How do you crash into a fucking parked car?" (I'm not sure, but I did.)

PARTING SHOT

Fortus is reading prep stories for the big prep preview sections at the end of the month. 

Fortus (to Trey): "Are Class 3A schools bigger than 2A?"