Friday, 27 January 2012

Southern Compassionality


Friday, January 27th, 2012

      Despite all of the pleading, pushing and cajoling, it seems that my fate was sealed. I asked nicely. I made excuses. I almost begged. I'm still to proud to do that, and sensible enough to realize that begging is not something I care to do. I'm still heading to Laredo. So now that that whole bit has been cleared up, I was left to make the best of the rest of my day.

      I love driving in the South over the winter. There is so much more greenery than elsewhere, although I've heard that it has been amazingly mild thus far. I wonder where all those people last year who were saying, “How about global warming now, we got 6 feet of snow?” I've not heard much from them of late, but I've been in a truck avoiding the terminals the best I can. Today's drive took me through Mississippi, along a few of the back roads.

      I've always had an appreciation for the landscape of the South. Soft rolling hills, bedecked with a mixed forest of spare conifers and mighty hardwoods. The undergrowth is what I remember most from my youth. I'd spend the summers in Virginia with my aunt. That was when I got that first smell of a different land. Smells aside, I was certainly enjoying the sunshine and warm temperatures today. I was blessed enough to catch a glimpse of some daffodils in full bloom along a few sections of freeway. They were in little clumps, but certainly enjoyable for someone who has not seen flowers in the wild for some time.

      For some odd reason, there was all sorts of traffic today. I understand that it is Friday, but man, where the hell do all of these people come from? At one point, I found myself comparing the drivers here with drivers in L.A. Stupid amounts of traffic all around, but people are nicer in L.A. I was a bit surprised. Over here, if you put your blinker on, tough nuggets. You are going to wait until a space is already cleared. In L.A., when a truck puts a blinker on, people actually stop and let you over. I recall one time another driver and I got into it comparing New York and L.A. drivers. He maintained that L.A. drivers were worse, and they are in that they cut you off and ignore you. I still say New Yorkers are the bigger bastards. They'll cut you off, then cuss you out for being in the way. That, and they won't let you merge until you are almost crushing their car into the jersey barrier.

      On a less funny and more introspective note, there was a small almost insignificant back up on I-10 west bound this evening. Just west of Baton Rouge, someplace after the I-110 split. Three lanes of traffic, going all sorts of slow. Up ahead, an emergency vehicle is on the right shoulder. Down here everybody is obligated to move over a lane for emergency vehicles. SO, three busy lanes into two overcrowded lanes. Dammit. I get up to the flashing blue lights, and see the tow truck driver putting gas in a lady's car. I raise my voice, and shout into the air of the cab, “Nice going numb-nuts!” Not that she could hear me. More for my own benefit and feeling superior.

      Then it hit me. That is exactly what I did. I made myself feel better at the expense of someone else. Actually, the more immediate thought was that I have no idea about that woman's circumstance. She could be a single mother of 4, unable to afford to fill the tank of her car for want of food for her kids. I silently reproached myself for judging so quickly. Her look of frustration, hand up to her head leaned against the window, returned to my mind. I could tell that she already felt bad enough. There was no need for me to add my negativity to the situation.

Often times, we find that the lesson comes after the test, as it did in this case. I'm getting better at catching myself, I just want to get even better at it. I once wished aloud to somebody some where, “I wish I had a little screen in my head that would display what I am about to say, then ask if I want to really say that.” Kinda like typing, a self check. Given that we will only ever speak so many words in this life time, I would like to make as many of those words as kind and gentle as I can.


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