Out on the Highway of life  ….it’s a Drive by Chewing

 

So I am heading into Winter Park the other day and I am sitting at the stop sign at county road 85/87, Red Dirt Hill, if you are unfamiliar with our numerical naming conventions.  The endless stream of weekend warriors parading by at 70 mph. As I am sitting there trying to find my hole shot, head pivoting like the final match at Wimbledon, I see my moment of glory, and, I know I have to take a chance.  Two cars and a semi coming up the hill ready to T-bone me if I don’t kick it hard.  The only hole I have seen in the last 2 or 3 minutes and I gotta go for it, so I punch my 2.2 liter, 4 cylinder Subaru into low and give it all she’s got and I shoot out into the eastbound lane as the wind from a westbound semi gently caresses my backside.

I am trying to get up to speed without throwing a rod, and, I catch a glance in the rearview where, sure enough, here comes a 5.8 liter 400 horse dark gray monster barreling up on me like it’s the final lap at Daytona. I look down and I am up to about 52 mph at this point, still winding her up.  I glance back in the rearview, adrenaline pumping, and all I can see is a Ram emblem and hood ornament that looks like a bulldog. At this point I think the airflow from his monster was actually accelerating me forward to the next level. Ok, call me crazy.

Feeling pretty good about surviving that encounter, I hear the nitrous boost kicking in on this, bad to the bone Dodge. I think, yep, either he is going to drive right over me, or, he’s going to blow the double yellow line to get ahead of me.  As this guy passes, I look down at the speedometer where I was hitting 65 and feeling pretty accomplished.  I’m thinking to myself ‘what does this guy have to prove?’. I am pretty sure that move has gotta’ be at least 10 bucks in gas or nitrous. So as he screams past, a giant bug hits the windshield, and, as I am thinking I’d rather be fishing, I notice it’s not a bug at all, it is a wasted wad of used chewing tobacco. Serious, hammered, wasted dry tobacco pile that looks like a bear took a dump on my windshield, and then, it flies away, leaving a skid mark several inches long. What are you going to do?

I am kinda’ pissed and by the time we hit Tabernash, where we are now bumper to bumper.  I keep my distance because my first thought is whether this is going to escalate? My phone rings and I go on about my busy day without another thought of this A-hole (from Colorado).  Except ‘Wow’, is this where we are as a society?

Maybe this was just a guy that needed a freshie and the hit was mere coincidence, or, maybe it was something more. Maybe it is the beginning of behavioral manifestations amplified by the evolution of a society hiding behind the binary code of our devices. A social place of shame and judgement, a place that doesn’t have a name, face, heart or soul.  Maybe this guy was just a product of his environment, but, nonetheless, what will become of a society that has no compassion or tolerance for others?