My near-fatal freak accident involved a long, overnight drive, a patriotic budgie-smuggler and a flying umbrella. I never even saw the accident coming, on account of being asleep at the time — an irony, given that as a student of untimely deaths, I’ve always tried to be vigilant about having one myself.

For example, when my bag of pretzels gets hung up in a vending machine, I just walk away. No rocking the machine, no temper tantrum. That’s because thirty-seven people in the past few years have been crushed to death by vending machines — freaking out over losing a dollar.

A good source of these stories is the CDC, which tracks all accidents in the U.S. as a way to help improve public safety, like at baseball games. Fans used to see a foul ball heading their way and think, “It’s coming to me! I got it! I got it!” 

As it turns out those moments were more than just entertaining replays of fans muffing the catch and tossing their beers all over those around them. Between 2012 and 2019 the CDC reported over 800 foul ball injuries at major league fields — some resulting in concussions, permanent vision loss and the death of one grandmother celebrating her 79^th birthday at Dodger Stadium. As a result, major league baseball now has netting to protect fans from foul balls. So, positive outcome.

The same thing happened in the National Hockey League. A 13 year old girl was tragically killed by an errant puck in 2002. The following season the league mandated netting at both ends of every rink to protect spectators. 

Unfortunately, with many fatal accidents there’s just no way to protect the public — like the ones involving lava lamps. Lava lamps, of course, were born out of the 60’s drug culture, which might help explain why someone would be heating one up on his kitchen stove. 

“My lava lamp like exploded man, and it’s sticking out of my chest!” 

Some freak accidents can only be characterized as ironic. Like Jim Heselden, the inventor of the Segway, who in 2010 died after apparently riding his Segway off a cliff. Or Stephen Whinfrey, who was out hunting rabbits near Doncaster, England. Elmer Fudd-like, he inserted his head into a rabbit hole, got stuck, and asphyxiated. 

Then there are the deaths that involve being in the wrong place at the wrong time. Mike Edwards, a founding member of the Electric Light Orchestra, was driving in Devon, England back in 2010. He was minding his own business — quite possibly humming the band’s 1979 hit, “Don’t Bring Me Down” — when a 1200 pound round hay bale randomly rolled down a field and flattened his van.

But in some accidents one can’t help feeling the victims had it coming — especially when they involve the mistreatment of animals. For example, in cockfighting men strap razor-sharp spurs on the legs of their roosters. At a California cockfight in 2011, one of these armed roosters accidentally slashed his owner, killing him. It’s hard to fault the rooster here. Or consider the Belarusian fisherman who bled to death after being bitten by a beaver he grabbed in order to have his picture taken with it. Didn’t he know that beavers are notoriously camera shy?

A sub-category of those who had it coming are the victims whose behavior is more freakish than accidental. For example, in 2005 Kenneth Pinyan died after injuries caused by having anal sex with a stallion, which is hard to imagine was an accident at all. Or, in 2008 a 43-year-old Irish mother of four died of an allergic reaction after having sex with a German Shepard, which had to have resulted in the most euphemistic eulogy ever. 

“She was such an animal lover.”

Of course, there are plenty of more innocent examples of animals killing people. Brazilian Joao Maria de Souza was sleeping peacefully beside his wife when a cow that had somehow wandered onto the roof of his house, dropped through the ceiling, crushing him. Fortunately, his wife and the cow were unharmed. Or, consider Floridian Jim Campbell. When he stepped out of his van in order to open the gate to his property, his dog excitedly jumped into the driver’s seat and stepped on the accelerator, running over his master.

But the accidents that really give me the willies stem from mistakes I too might have made at some time in my life — like mistakes with dry ice. You rarely see it anymore, but back in the 50’s this super-cold form of carbon dioxide seemed to be everywhere. As kids we’d pick up chunks in our bare hands — sustaining instant burns — and drop them into buckets of water to watch it boil and smoke. 

So, to me, it’s understandable that at a party in Moscow in 2020, some young comrades dropped 60 pounds of the stuff into an indoor pool, to create a cool-looking layer of fog over the water. Who knew that carbon dioxide would displace the oxygen, causing three people to pass out and drown? Not to totally malign dry ice, vodka may have also played a role here.

Or, how many drunk guys have eaten weird things on a dare? I once ate several live black ants for lunch, and I wasn’t even drunk. So, I can’t fault Sam Ballard, a 19 year-old Australian student and rugby player who ate a slug during Wine Appreciation Night with his mates.  But if you take anything away from what I am telling you, it should be to NEVER EAT A SLUG because it can cause paralysis and death, as it did with Sam.

Despite my own efforts to learn from the mistakes of others, when my freak accident arrived, as I said, I never even saw it coming. Having driven most of the night to catch the morning ferry from Hyannis to Nantucket, my wife and I were both flat on our backs, sound asleep on Jettys Beach. 

My ensemble consisted of nothing more than a pair of nylon Speedo briefs. The British call these suits “budgie smugglers” — a joke that went by me until someone explained that a budgie is what Brits call a parakeet. Actually, a true “budgie smuggler” is usually black, thong-like, has an overhanging belly, and is parked on a Black Sea beach. If anything, my Speedo stood out even more, displaying red, white, and blue stars and stripes. I’m not just bringing this up to mention that I once looked pretty much okay in a Speedo. It’s also an important part of our story.

Something pulled me out of my deep sleep. I opened my eyes to discover a large, green-striped beach umbrella overhead, my brain slowly upshifting out of dreamworld to wakefulness…

“It’s daytime?”

“I smell Coppertone.”

“That is not my umbrella.”

When I tried to roll over, my butt felt strangely anchored to the sand. Thrashing in panic, I managed to liberate the only important body parts that a Speedo is designed to cover, exposing myself to everyone south of me.

I tried to tuck myself back into my suit but found the fabric distorted and unyielding. My eyes traced the metal pole down to where it entered the front waistband of my suit, exited the fabric at the side below my hipbone, and disappeared into the sand. I grabbed the pole with both hands and pulled with all of my strength — to no avail. 

Suddenly, a stranger appeared over me. “Are you okay?” he asked, out of breath.

“I guess,” I said, though in truth I wasn’t all that okay about being pinned to a public beach with my bathing suit mostly off.

The stranger heaved the umbrella out of the sand, tucked it under his arm, sprinted toward the parking lot, and squealed his tires as he sped away.

I’m usually not a huge believer in fate, but if that umbrella had fallen just inches shy of where it did, well, let’s just say I would not have had the opportunity to meet the two wonderful daughters we have today. As if Great White Sharks weren’t already enough (thanks to Steven Spielberg and Jaws), the Fear of Neutering by Beach Umbrella for me became the final straw. 

I know what you’re thinking, “that was a fluke…what are the odds it could ever happen again?”

The answer is, the odds are pretty damn good, at least many thousands of times greater than going to the beach and being eaten by a Great White.

Over the past nine years, there have been over 30,000 reported incidents in which people have been hospitalized due to flying beach umbrellas. Experts estimate that a beach umbrella carried aloft in windy conditions can exert 8 tons of force per square inch at its tip — enough to go through a human body.

In 2015 Ed Quigley was lying on a Delaware beach when an airborne umbrella descended into his left eye, blinding him. For those of you who don’t believe in cruel fate, when the tip of the umbrella entered his brain it destroyed the sensors that enabled this gourmet cook and food lover to distinguish tastes. 

Or, consider Lottie Belk who was celebrating her 55^th birthday at Virginia Beach when an airborne beach umbrella struck her in the chest, killing her.

This is why the beach, this once-magical place, no longer calls to me (nor do vending machines, lava lamps, dry ice, slugs, rabbit holes, roosters, or beavers). If you need more convincing, just visit Ed Quigley’s website, www.beachumbrellasafety.org

This has been a Public Service Announcement. Well, sort of.