This article in the Independent about the death of George Clooney's pet pig provoked both sympathy and reflection in me. I found the following anecdote very funny.
I was interested to know if anyone has been in a situation where they considered they might die and found themselves trying to write a last note?Occasionally, all that squealing can come in handy, like the early morning hours of 16 January 1994, when the Northridge earthquake shook most of Los Angeles, prompting shortlived but very real fears that the Big One had struck.
As Clooney recounted it: "Max was in bed with me and woke up minutes before it happened. And I was yelling at him for waking me up, when everything just exploded. So, I'm naked with Max, and running ... because I'm in a house on a hill, and if it's going down I want to be up on the street, dodging the next house.
"My buddy, who lives in the downstairs guesthouse, comes running up. And he's naked. With a gun, because he thought someone was breaking in. And I'm trying to write a note to my folks, trying to explain to them in case we die that it's not what it seems: two naked men, a gun and a pig."
My closest experience (outside the normal fun of being shot at etc in the Army) was a plane crash. I was flying in part of the world notorious at the time for the poor state of maintenance of its air fleet and the severity of its winter weather. The pilot notified us that the undercarriage had frozen solid about thirty minutes before we were due to land and that a crash landing was inevitable.
I was on my own at the time, but with a very loved cat who had a pretty idiosyncratic personality. I found myself writing in my passport a long, detailed, and pretty weird note to my mother about how to deal with him and his peccadillos. A couple of other passengers noticed what I was up to and we soon had a big group of us all sketching notes to important people, sharing thoughts and ideas - took our minds off, I guess.
Clearly, most of us made it down alive, the fuel having been jettisoned and the frozen ground actually letting us slide through a long impact and get stopped relatively gently by loads of trees.
Still got that passport, and it makes me chuckle to remember what seemed to be important then.
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