I wined and dined myself here today and was glad to get out of town and sit under the dappled shade of a tree and survey the stately grounds and drink wine and eat a cheese plate (Gouda, Manchego, dried cherries, Marcona almonds, Medjool dates, the latter being completely wasted on me) that was generous if uninspired. The winery folks were very nice and by dropping eaves I was able to roll around in those glorious Texas accents of which I am so jealous and which, if I could wrap them around me like a shawl, I would.
Unfortunately, on the drive back I nearly died several times, including one incident which, had I not swerved into another lane, would have resulted in a collusion: some Kewpie in a midlife-crisis-mobile who had landed herself on the shoulder due to a lack of merging skills who was DEAD DETERMINED TO GET IN THIS LANE RIGHT NOW. The more places I live in the U.S. the more I see this mentality of entitlement and willful oblivion as an American Disease. It makes me want to flee the country screaming. Everything supersized and everyone's time more important than anyone else's, everyone willing to crawl over bodies to get where they're going, consequences be damned. Is this an urban pathology? Would it be any better anywhere else in the world? Gross, gross, gross, GROSS.
There are days (many, actually) when I suspect this species is long overdue for the fate that met the dinosaurs and I can only wonder where that damn meteor is.
Can I secede from the planet, please?
Yes you may, but before you go, can I point out one more American crime? The perfect inability of most of the driving population to use their indicators (or signals, or flashy lights, or whatever you call them). How hard can it be? Grrr, beam me up once you've gone please.
ReplyDeleteI know—it’s infuriating! I curse whoever or whatever relegated turn signals to the “white after Labor Day” category, for all the vogue they seem to enjoy here! Lamentably, I have found that screaming, “It’s called a turn signal!” at the offending parties, even when accompanied by a helpful pantomime of a turn signal, tends to accomplish little. Is it any better in London or Zimbabwe?
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