It’s scary getting old.
This came home to me the other day when I was out shopping for some fruits and vegetables with my mother-in-law, Betty Kamen. Betty doesn’t move too fast these days, and as we set off to cross Taraval Street in San Francisco I could see some cars in the distance. I didn’t give this too much thought. California law is very clear about pedestrians—we were in a crosswalk and we had the right of way.
However, the drivers of the cars coming at us seemed to have other priorities besides the law, ethics, and civilization in general. One of them just kept coming—slowly, but still, not stopping as proscribed by the state, even though he could see—had been able to see for 100 yards—that I was escorting a little old lady across the street. Just to make things interesting, there was a second car coming behind the first that was being driven by a competitive driver. You know what I mean: it was of the utmost importance for this guy to pass driver number one, even though there was no race. Many of us get into this mindset—we hurry to beat other drivers, or people standing on lines, or to the top of whatever heap we decide we must conquer in the moment.
This second car was passing the first car when he saw us. Did he stop, or even slow down? Of course not. He just swerved wider and raced on by. I noticed a handicap sticker hanging from his mirror.
Betty and I made it across the road, but it had been an unpleasant moment. It is troubling to see how cavalier and disrespectful our fellow citizens can be to one another at any time; it was truly disturbing to see such callousness directed at someone as fragile as an 85-year-old with a bad hip.
Well, not really directed at her. I doubt they gave it that much thought, which is more troubling then a moment of carelessness. Many of us are in such a hurry to get to the next event, own the newest, best gadget, make the most money, have the most fun, and prove that we are an important person that we risk forgetting what it means to be a human being.
Okay, I’m getting preachy here. I once was a preacher, so I come by it honestly. Frankly, when those cars sped by I didn’t want to tell them to be nicer and take the time to enjoy life: I just wanted to nail their car windows with a golf ball. So it’s probably a good thing for everyone involved that I didn’t happen to have any golf balls in my pocket.
But my spasm of anger aside, we really should be nicer to each other and take the time to enjoy the precious, fragile gift of life. That was the takeaway message for me. Although after we did our shopping I did have a bunch of great fruit and vegetables in a bag that would have been perfect for addressing any more obnoxious behavior on the part of a thoughtless driver. Tomato, anyone?
Old and In the Way
It’s scary getting old.
This came home to me the other day when I was out shopping for some fruits and vegetables with my mother-in-law, Betty Kamen. Betty doesn’t move too fast these days, and as we set off to cross Taraval Street in San Francisco I could see some cars in the distance. I didn’t give this too much thought. California law is very clear about pedestrians—we were in a crosswalk and we had the right of way.
However, the drivers of the cars coming at us seemed to have other priorities besides the law, ethics, and civilization in general. One of them just kept coming—slowly, but still, not stopping as proscribed by the state, even though he could see—had been able to see for 100 yards—that I was escorting a little old lady across the street. Just to make things interesting, there was a second car coming behind the first that was being driven by a competitive driver. You know what I mean: it was of the utmost importance for this guy to pass driver number one, even though there was no race. Many of us get into this mindset—we hurry to beat other drivers, or people standing on lines, or to the top of whatever heap we decide we must conquer in the moment.
This second car was passing the first car when he saw us. Did he stop, or even slow down? Of course not. He just swerved wider and raced on by. I noticed a handicap sticker hanging from his mirror.
Betty and I made it across the road, but it had been an unpleasant moment. It is troubling to see how cavalier and disrespectful our fellow citizens can be to one another at any time; it was truly disturbing to see such callousness directed at someone as fragile as an 85-year-old with a bad hip.
Well, not really directed at her. I doubt they gave it that much thought, which is more troubling then a moment of carelessness. Many of us are in such a hurry to get to the next event, own the newest, best gadget, make the most money, have the most fun, and prove that we are an important person that we risk forgetting what it means to be a human being.
Okay, I’m getting preachy here. I once was a preacher, so I come by it honestly. Frankly, when those cars sped by I didn’t want to tell them to be nicer and take the time to enjoy life: I just wanted to nail their car windows with a golf ball. So it’s probably a good thing for everyone involved that I didn’t happen to have any golf balls in my pocket.
But my spasm of anger aside, we really should be nicer to each other and take the time to enjoy the precious, fragile gift of life. That was the takeaway message for me. Although after we did our shopping I did have a bunch of great fruit and vegetables in a bag that would have been perfect for addressing any more obnoxious behavior on the part of a thoughtless driver. Tomato, anyone?
Category: Commentary and tagged cars, crosswalks, driving, ethics, Growing old, How to Play the Harmonica: and Other Life Lessons, pedestrians, respect for the elderly, Rock Bottom Remainders, safety, Sam Barry, Write That Book Already! The Tough Love You Need to Get Published Now. Permalink. Trackback URL.