A little cloudy and overcast this Sunday morning. Heidi and I decided to go for breakfast at our favorite pizza place. Not for pizza but for a breakfast buffet John puts on Saturday and Sunday mornings. Pretty good spread too. Louie is not the name of the owner, just the name of the restaurant. John owns the restaurant. John is from a little town in France and speaks with a wonderful French accent. How he came to own an Italian restaurant in Daytona Beach and… have the best pizza in town is a story I would like to hear sometime.
When I arrived at the intersection of Clyde Morris and Beville there was a young man waiting to pull out of the corner gas station. Well, the fellow kindof looked like a young punk. Cigarette hanging out the window, radio blaring, strange haircut. At this point I have to make a decision. Do I pull all the way up to the car in front of me….or…..do I stop and allow the fellow to get in line ahead of me?
In my observations it seems like there is a general way we Americans react in this type of situation.
ME FIRST!
I hate to say it but I see the “me first” attitude an awful lot more than “you go ahead of me”. It’s as if we have had it ingrained in us that 1st is the place to be. After all “nobody remembers 2nd place” right?. I guess that works pretty good with games and sports or 1st in the class, but on the highway? I don’t think so. We as a nation are capable of treating each other with respect. We have done it before.
Remember right after 911 when we were all extremely polite and courteous to each other? Experiencing it on the highway, at the shopping malls, and also the workplace, was a real delight. We had something that united us, a common bond of experiencing a national tragedy. The common “Me First” was not seen anyplace. Everyone was super nice to their fellow Americans. Even though we all had to deal with the horror of 911, it was wonderful to experience the respect we showed one another in those frightful days afterward.
Lasted about 2 weeks…..
By the way…I did let the fellow pull in front of me.
I admit the cigarette and the loud music were the first things I noticed about him. But then I thought,” he is another motorist just like me”. Why should I look at him any way other than that? …”would I hope he would let me out if the tables were turned?”.
Oh…. and the thing about me thinking he was a young punk? Now that I think about it, he probably thought …”look at that old fart”… when he looked my way.
But he’d be right…
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