The mind is like a parachute...
Some days .. there are just too many people on my planet. Yanno? There I was doing my usual morning commute to work, listening to Norah Jones, driving like my usual Canadian, good driver trying to live in Southern USA self, when Bubba Doo-Rag decides he likes my lane better. Not just my lane, but my exact GPS position. It didn't matter that he was only driving a POS Datsun B210 that looked like a good wind storm would put it out of it's misery, and that I was driving a brand spankin new truck. Ohh noo. He must have thought those spinners were wings, and would save him from all peril. Perhaps it was that his cock-eyed hat, looking jaunty with the brim in the 4 o'clock position, and just a tad tight that restricted the oxygen necessary to have reason, but I will call my father when I get home and kindly thank him for teaching me to drive in a blizzard, in the snow and ice and allowed me today to save my own bacon.
After a brief interlude of catching my breath, and then merging back into morning traffic, I continue on my merry way, once again trying to get Norah to soothe my frazzled nerves. Every morning I do this hour long commute, and I have had to have many little conversations with myself about not letting the overwhelmingly ignorant driver-safety conscious people here make me a nervous wreck. I am always polite, and I always use those nifty little things called SIGNAL LIGHTS, and never fail to let someone merge or have the right of way. So here I am, watching Evel Knievel ahead of me, swerving dangerously close and/or cutting off people, and coming very close several times to running other drivers right off the road. I called my town police station on my cell phone, and informed chickadee of the car, tag number, and the erratic behavior. "Yes ma'am, we'll look into it." I said a quick prayer of thanks that at least he was ahead of me where I could keep an eye on him. Everyone else must have thought the same thing because they all pulled over and slowed to let him pass. Junior Mint was now in the lead, most likely dreaming he was racing in the Nascar Championships. This went on for another 30 minutes or so, with us all trailing behind thankful to be in one piece and not a policeman in sight.
I glanced over at M, who was gripping the "holy shit" handle and he said, "that boy's an accident looking for a place to happen." Little did he know how prophetic he would be.
I just repeated a saying that has been a mantra of mine for a little while... I can't remember where or when I heard it, but it was something that rang true. "The mind is like a parachute, it works best when open." To me this is something that can be appopriate for many things, but mostly about just using plain old common sense.
Anyhoo.. I digress. About 5 miles before I have to take my exit to my office, there is this little "burb" that we have to go through that straddles the highway. Like all other little highway towns it is littered with gas stations and fast-food joints. I see the Datsun ahead on my left about 5 car lengths. Four lanes of traffic, 2 each way, all on a mission. On the northbound side it is mostly occupied by long-haul truckers getting their rigs on the road for the day. Its 6:40am, and the sun is shining. Datsun boy decided at the last minute he was going to make a left turn, without signaling, and across two lanes of oncoming traffic, RIGHT in front of a dual-axle (2 beds long) semi. I flinched as the world seemed to just stop. Slow motion, matrix kind of thing. I heard a voice screaming "nooooooo", and I realized it was me. Needless to say that the car lost its game of chicken with the semi, and when it all came to a stop, there were two more cars involved, with several fenders bumped behind the semi. Our side came to a complete stop, because we had known he was trouble. The young driver didn't make it. Whatever was so important to have to have, and to have this whole entitlement attitude cost him his life.
I miss home, and most of all I miss the times when respect, common sense, gratitude, and self control weren't unknown qualities in youth. I am only 36, but there are days when I feel worlds apart from the younger generations.
After a brief interlude of catching my breath, and then merging back into morning traffic, I continue on my merry way, once again trying to get Norah to soothe my frazzled nerves. Every morning I do this hour long commute, and I have had to have many little conversations with myself about not letting the overwhelmingly ignorant driver-safety conscious people here make me a nervous wreck. I am always polite, and I always use those nifty little things called SIGNAL LIGHTS, and never fail to let someone merge or have the right of way. So here I am, watching Evel Knievel ahead of me, swerving dangerously close and/or cutting off people, and coming very close several times to running other drivers right off the road. I called my town police station on my cell phone, and informed chickadee of the car, tag number, and the erratic behavior. "Yes ma'am, we'll look into it." I said a quick prayer of thanks that at least he was ahead of me where I could keep an eye on him. Everyone else must have thought the same thing because they all pulled over and slowed to let him pass. Junior Mint was now in the lead, most likely dreaming he was racing in the Nascar Championships. This went on for another 30 minutes or so, with us all trailing behind thankful to be in one piece and not a policeman in sight.
I glanced over at M, who was gripping the "holy shit" handle and he said, "that boy's an accident looking for a place to happen." Little did he know how prophetic he would be.
I just repeated a saying that has been a mantra of mine for a little while... I can't remember where or when I heard it, but it was something that rang true. "The mind is like a parachute, it works best when open." To me this is something that can be appopriate for many things, but mostly about just using plain old common sense.
Anyhoo.. I digress. About 5 miles before I have to take my exit to my office, there is this little "burb" that we have to go through that straddles the highway. Like all other little highway towns it is littered with gas stations and fast-food joints. I see the Datsun ahead on my left about 5 car lengths. Four lanes of traffic, 2 each way, all on a mission. On the northbound side it is mostly occupied by long-haul truckers getting their rigs on the road for the day. Its 6:40am, and the sun is shining. Datsun boy decided at the last minute he was going to make a left turn, without signaling, and across two lanes of oncoming traffic, RIGHT in front of a dual-axle (2 beds long) semi. I flinched as the world seemed to just stop. Slow motion, matrix kind of thing. I heard a voice screaming "nooooooo", and I realized it was me. Needless to say that the car lost its game of chicken with the semi, and when it all came to a stop, there were two more cars involved, with several fenders bumped behind the semi. Our side came to a complete stop, because we had known he was trouble. The young driver didn't make it. Whatever was so important to have to have, and to have this whole entitlement attitude cost him his life.
I miss home, and most of all I miss the times when respect, common sense, gratitude, and self control weren't unknown qualities in youth. I am only 36, but there are days when I feel worlds apart from the younger generations.
posted by Vixxen | 7:42 AM
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