Several weeks ago my son asked me to be “Judge.” Apparently he was driving south through North Carolina with his family when someone passed him and threw out a cup of soda. Intentional or not, the soda splashed my son’s car and windshield. Several miles down the road, he passed this transgressor. My son was the passenger, and as they passed he threw out a box load of popcorn he had been eating. The popcorn flew over the other car and some even went in an open driver’s window.
My daughter-in-law thought that this was a really stupid and childish act, especially as they had two sleeping toddlers in the back seat. Matt called me asking “Was I wrong? Devon says what I did was stupid.”
As “Judge” I asked two questions:
What did the other driver do?
Did it feel good?
“The other driver slowed way down, we never saw him again, and it felt really frickin good!”
The “Judge’s” decision? “You got away with a really stupid act. Were you actually in North Carolina?”
“Then you were extra stupid and extra lucky. They hunt in North Carolina. They carry guns in NC just in case they see game!”
This incident reminded me of a similar event of my youth. An event that was very stupid, an event where I was very lucky, and an event which made me feel really frickin good!
It was 1969 and I was driving through Philadelphia heading for a job interview. I was stopped at a traffic light in my hot 1968 VW bug. The exact moment that the light turned green, the car behind me leaned on the horn. I figured he was impatient, but damn! I didn’t even have time to release the clutch. I was pissed!
I got out of the car and slowly walked back to his car. He was leaning on the horn all the way. When I got to his window he rolled it down and started yelling at me to get moving.
“Oh. You want me to move? I assumed you were trying to tell me there was something wrong with my car. No problem, sir, I’ll move. I can do that because as you can see the light is now green.”
I returned slowly to my car and waited until just as the light hit amber and then I pulled out. The impatient asshole behind me, purple with rage and still cursing and beeping, could not follow in time. He was stuck for another stop light rotation.
In retrospect this was a really stupid move. You never know what kind of a nut is in that other car. At least I wasn’t in North Carolina; still it was very stupid.
Damn did it ever feel good!