Go Back To California!

Big Sur, California

Big Sur, California (Photo credit: the_tahoe_guy)

“Go Back To California you $@^$%@!” He drove a big yellow pick up truck and had the kind of mouth that would make a dentist drool, assuming they knew he could pay for the massive amounts of work that gaping maw required.

I was the beneficiary of his advice all because I wasn’t dumb enough to try to pretend the road we were on was part of the Indy 500. I might have considered driving faster but his incessant honking and flashing of his brights encouraged me to be extra careful.

Ok, I confess I might have slowed down a tad. He had ample opportunity to pass me and chose not to and his decision to turn his brights on made it more challenging to see.

A Big Black Hat

I haven’t changed the plates on my car yet so it is not hard to figure out that I might be from out of town.

Sadly my big black cowboy hat didn’t come with a laser beam I could use to decorate his car, face or eyes. And no matter how hard I tried to use The Force I wasn’t able to call upon it, which I suppose is good because Master Yoda says that would giving into the Dark Side.

Had the children not been in the car I might have responded to his comments with my own commentary, but I didn’t want to broaden their vocabulary any more than has already been done.

Heck, what I really wanted to do was take him aside and ask him to explain what the hell he was thinking driving a truck that is painted the same color as a banana. I am sorry, but the Big Bird mobile just isn’t intimidating, let alone cool.

The Middle Finger

My daughter made a point to tell me that he pointed the middle finger at me and wanted to know if I cared. I laughed and said no. She asked why and I told her it was because I didn’t care what he thought.

It was true, but between you and me it is also because I knew I was inside his head.

The guy was foaming at the mouth which showed me I was living rent free inside his head–that means I won.

Later on my son asked if I wanted to punch him in the nose. I told him I didn’t care, but it might be nice to give him a swift kick in the ass.

Confession: I was still thinking about the free real estate in his head.


The whole thing was ridiculous. I don’t know what his problem was or why he refused to pass me when he had the chance to do so.  Even though I adjust my mirror the lights from his truck made it a bit more challenging to see so ultimately he forced me to slow down.

When we hit the stoplight at which he shared his advice I laughed because he doesn’t know I have thought about going home a bunch of times, except this is home. When I decide to engage and grab a hold of something I tend to use a grip that isn’t broken without substantial effort.

That is because I was blessed with a double dose of tenacity and am just a little stubborn.

And as I have told my kids, sometimes you can’t figure out whether the change you made is good or bad without taking the road all the way to the end.

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