TV star Ryan Dunn is dead because he was a jackass.
Oh, sure, people are mourning his death, but not me. I’m mourning his incredible stupidity.
You see, he was legally drunk. He had twice the legal limit of booze in his system. Then he went driving at speeds up to 140mph. Tell me: How was he supposed to survive such stupidity? The odds were low the moment his keys hit the ignition.
All this “oh, it’s so sad” shit just pisses me off. Sorry, kids. Not me. He’s dead and we’re lucky it happened before he could kill many others.
Because that’s the reality of drinking and driving.
Your Choices Don’t Just Hurt You
25 years ago, when I was about 12, my mother got a phone call. “Did you see the news?” she was asked.
It was Mother’s Day. Her friend’s twin boys, 18 years old, were over and teasing their mom, having a great time for her special day. But she realized she’d never bought cream for the dessert coffee. She asked the boys to go to the store and pick up some cream.
Then she never saw them again.
That Mother’s Day eve, a drunk ran a light, T-boned her sons’ car at super-high speeds, killing both good-looking, star-athlete 18-year-old identical twin boys on impact before they’d ever cash in on their university scholarships.
She was never the same. She went from being a great community member and artist to someone who left town to live a reclusive artist’s life on the waterfront up coast. The last couple times I saw her, years after her sons’ death, you could read the tragedy in her face. She never left that sadness behind.
Friends Don’t Drive with Drunk Friends
That’s what excessive alcohol does behind the wheel.
I see friends drinking to excess and driving. I don’t ride with them. I worry about them, but I can’t change their choices.
They’re not drinking double the legal limit and driving 140mph in a Porsche, but it’s bad enough when it’s a big city like this and veering off a road at 80 k/hr can kill a crowd.
Ryan Dunn didn’t just kill himself, he killed a friend.
If you ride with drunk friends, you’re taking your life in your hands. Or, rather, you’re giving your life to someone who was probably too drunk to get the keys in the ignition correctly before starting the car.
Talk them out of driving. Tell them you won’t ride with them.
And if they choose to drive despite you saying you won’t ride with them, don’t change your mind. Your being in the car is even more of a distraction to an already-unfocused drunk.
Trusting your friend not to “hurt” you doesn’t mean you can trust them if they’re drinking and driving. Alcohol impairs judgment. It doesn’t only impair judgment if there’s no good friends involved.
After all, Dunn’s friend is just as dead as he is.
They died immediately of “crash and thermal trauma.” Thermal trauma means they burned to death.
Want to go that way?
Don’t drive with drunk friends.
My Anger is Justified, and I Don’t Apologize
No, Ryan Dunn’s death isn’t a tragedy, it’s stupidity. It was entirely preventable. If you can afford a Porsche, you can afford a cab.
I get angry when I hear people die for stupid reasons. I get angry at the pain and loss that those left behind will endure.
If my anger and lack of boo-hoo about Dunn’s death, my story about my mom’s friend’s tragic Mother’s Day that made her childless, and my harsh words affect just one person’s future decisions, then that’s awesome.
Meanwhile, if you want to be pissed at me for calling it like it is, so “soon” after his death, then you’re a goof.
The fact is, if we wait until a “respectable” time has passed to call Ryan Dunn an idiot for dying an unnecessary death, then we lose the emotional impact his death can have on those who need a wake-up call.
Ryan Dunn was a good-hearted, great-souled, wonderful man who was a jackass. He died needlessly.
Don’t be a jackass.