Would You Celebrate His Death?

Some years ago I wrote a post in which I asked whether you had to be drunk and blind to obtain a drivers license in Texas.

It wasn’t as tongue-in-cheek as you might think–the drivers here are awful.

Two days while walking through the parking lot in Target an oaf in a large truck almost ran me down.

Had I not been paying attention I wouldn’t have seen him try to swallow an entire hot dog in one bite nor would I sit here wondering if he was trying to steer with his knees.

As he zig-zagged his way by me I shouted warm words of greeting and was mildly surprised when a woman asked me if I would celebrate his death.

The sarcasm in her voice was plain and the intent clear, but it didn’t stop me from saying I would do a jig.

“Do you know him or do you just wish bad things upon random strangers?”

“He looks like a dumb attorney I know, maybe you are related.”

I know she was surprised by my response and I saw sputter as she searched for an appropriate comeback, but I didn’t stick around to see what she came up with.

You Called Down The Thunder

Something happened a short while ago that reminded me of that scenes from Unforgiven and Tombstone.

I go back and forth about which one I like better. The clip from Tombstone starts off with Wyatt Earp talking about what happens when you call down the thunder.

It is a cool scene and you have to appreciate how simply it illustrates consequences.

But Unforgiven, well that might be my preference. There is something about William Munny’s response to Little Bill that warms the cockles of my dark soul.

Well, he should have armed himself if he’s going to decorate his saloon with my friend.

Why do I like it better?

Because I do.

Yeah, I am feeling fired up and feisty and yeah I rattled a few cages in response to some things that happened today.

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I received two strange text messages that appeared to come from someone I haven’t spoken with in a long while.

It looked like it was some sort of spam/phishing attempt but since I didn’t click on the links I can’t say for certain.

But I can tell you there was part of me that wanted to give a “you called down the thunder” response followed by some William Munny.

I didn’t do it because it wasn’t worth my time to try to figure out a safe way to respond to the strange texts.

If by chance they weren’t spam I figure the sender will try to contact me again or not…

2018 Approaches

Seventeen years ago I went to bed around midnight never suspecting that my sleep would be in short supply.

The teen who calls me dad was about to enter the world and my relationship with him was going to move from talking to his mom’s belly or trying to figure out if the ripples in her stomach were caused by hand or foot.

One more year to go before he turns 18 and can assume more decision making about life than he has now.

Another year in which I’ll continue to do what I can to teach him what little I know about life and how to make good decisions.

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Intermixed with this and so many other things will be decisions about whether to join one of the two local shuls and how involved to or to not get with community.

I am not content living at or in the periphery nor do I need to be at the center either.

Seventeen years ago I couldn’t have predicted any of this…not one thing.

It was a different world in so many ways both personally and professionally. Gun violence was more shocking and not expected and 9-11 was a date or the number you called for help.

Reality television wasn’t a term everyone understood and the dolt we call president had no political title.

So much has happened I cannot help but wonder what the world will look like 17 years from now.

Would I have responded the same way to almost being run over by an oaf then as I did now?

I am not sure.

Maybe.

Will I respond the same way 17 years from now?

Maybe, maybe not.

Maybe I’ll be more enlightened or maybe I’ll be grumpier.

Maybe the chances I took today will pay off long before and I’ll be a very different man.

Don’t know, can’t say. I’ll have to just find out.