Hubcap Diamond Star Halo

I was a high-schooler. The radio was at top volume. I was jamming out to this immortal T.Rex song, careening around a curve on the way to Town Center Mall in Kennesaw, Georgia, when I nearly had a head-on collision with a truck. Anyone who has traveled the route between greater Harrison High School district and the Mall remembers that curvy road - pre-Barrett Parkway Connector, of course. I had no business going that fast or paying 90% of my attention to T.Rex while driving - around the tightest curve known to man.

One point to draw from this is that teenagers have patchy judgement and should not have licenses. We as a society should do anything to make ourselves think more about the fact that we're behind the wheel of a huge fast machine that can and does take lives. Sorry to be shrill, but I have occasion to be shrill.

Mazie, Vivian, and I were midway across the street between the bus stop and our house the other day when a car appeared at the foot of the incline leading up to where we were crossing. The car was headed straight for us and, to my horror, did not slow down. We stopped, I pulled back the girls, and as the car came closer, I started shouting at the driver. She was a young girl with dark hair - cute in a dirty sweet sort of way. A boy was in the passenger seat. She would have hit us if I hadn't pulled the girls away and she hadn't swerved. She had to see us. She just plain came barreling up the hill towards us. She had to slow down right beside us to turn the corner. I was still hollering for her to slow down and mind her manners, so she had to know we were there by then, but she ignored us. Car bubble.

Oh, many, many retributions occur to me. The problem is, I couldn't levy them if I planned to because adrenaline has blocked all memory of her car except that it was silver and newish. If I wanted to issue a citizen's arrest Barney Fife style, I'd have a pretty hard time.

Those of you who know my mother know I come by rage honestly. (Mom, if you're reading, sorry to expose you.) My mom is the most road-rage prone person I know. I don't want to embarrass her, but I'll just recommend that no others of you cut her off in traffic or you may see or hear things you didn't think you'd EVER hear from a person as lovely as my mother. She can really let fly. It seems I've inherited this tendency in pedestrian form.

Ironically, isn't it the tendency toward hotheadedness that leads to both crappy driving and wrath at crappy drivers? Hmm....

I don't think I ever did anything as egregious as endangering small children, but I certainly did some stupid things when I was a hotheaded young driver. Peeling through intersections on bald tires. Cramming way too many people into the car. Seriously - I think that people under, say, 21 as well as people who commit driving crimes should have to drive "starter cars" that stand out like sore thumbs, can't accelerate very quickly, and have cushion all around them. And they should lose their license if they do anything wrong. No tickets, just revoked license for varying lengths of time depending on the infraction. I know, I know; that's not practical. It would hinder their ability to work reliably, etc. But I am in mother bear mode.

On a lighter note, I'd like to consider the advice contained in pop songs. Some have good advice, but more have bad advice. I was just listening to someone sing,

1. "If it makes you happy, then it can't be that bad." Umm, hello-oo. Have you never heard of crack cocaine? Unchecked power? Shopping addiction? The list goes on. In fact, that's probably the worst advice I've ever heard.
   
2. "Listen to your heart" is another piece of advice that has limited worth. My heart wants cookies. What does your heart want?
   
3. How about, "Go on, take the money and run." Woo hoo. Yeah, boy. I think there's a guy in big trouble for that and it's all over the news.

Some stand-out's on the good advice side include:

1. "Don't throw your hand." That's Michael Stipe's way of saying "Don't give up." I think that's good advice.
   
2. The Beastie Boys share this bit of encouragement: "Don't worry about it when you give it your best." That's a balanced statement.
3. I'm also a personal fan of "No parking on the dance floor." It has so many non-dancing applications: Someone's stalled out with their cart in the middle of the aisle, gazing at Newman's Own varieties. No parking on the dance floor. Someone's trying to decide which gas pump to approach, blocking the way. No parking on the dance floor.
4. Then there's a song that's chock full of good advice. You probably already guessed it. If you didn't, I'll just say the bit of advice it starts with is, "Read a Book." If you don't already know this song, then I encourage you NOT to look it up.

Ahh, I already feel better. But if I see that chick on the street without her big fast car bubble to keep her insulated, she might just lose her diamond star halo. I haven't heard a pop song advise mothers to read somebody the riot act, but I'm sure there is one in a genre I'm less familiar with.

Over and out!