Girlfriend, Land the Damn Plane
Let’s talk about the deer in the headlights.
It was 1980. I was leaning over to unlock my mother’s car door when I saw the man coming for her. I froze. I did not unlock the door. Instead, my arm was extended in mid-air, motionless like a marble statue.
My mother saw the frozen look of fear on my ten-year-old face and turned toward the man. He pushed her…