I’m Still Full of Piss and Vinegar

I’m 49, an age at which guys should be calming down, heading into their dotage, and at a minimum, getting in touch with their feminine side. Unfortunately, I’m still full of piss and vinegar.

Dig if you will the picture of Frankie Boy driving into his neighborhood on Saturday afternoon, listening to a little NPR and feeling pretty good about the world. Then the doves cried.

There was a truck and trailer parked in the opposite lane of my little street — the lawn mowing guys were doing their Saturday thing. As I started rolling down the street, three cars were coming my way. And in some sort of wrong-is-right, up-is-down universe, they thought they should be able to swerve into my lane and I should wait. Hmmm. Did I ever mention I like some rules? Like traffic rules?

I rolled forward but still left enough room for them to get through. I thought the third car, an open Jeep painted flat black, would wait for me. Silly boy. The guy jetted through the opening then leaned out of his Jeep and screamed at me. I hit the brakes. Turned off the car. And walked up to him. He was sitting there with his 10-year-old kid.

“What’s the problem?” I said. (I wasn’t really interested in rhetoric at this point.)

“You could leave me a little more room to get through, man,” he said.

“Oh, let me get this right,” I said. “I was supposed to wait for you, even though you’re in my lane?”

“Yeah, I was with those other cars,” he said.

At this point I could feel my blood pressure boiling, so I did the only thing I could — I walked back to my car. As I was getting in my car, the guy is muttering and then said, “Have a nice day.” I don’t think he really meant it.

I returned the pleasantry: “Good day to you, jagoff.” He rolled on, tapped the brakes, and I think for a moment thought about coming back. Truth be told, I was ready to go MMA. (I know this doesn’t make any sense, but read the beginning of this story.)

We rolled away. Sheryl told me that yesterday, when she was out walking Snickers the Wonder Dog, the guy in the black Jeep pulled up in front of my house. My car was sitting outside. And he sat there a long while. How delicious.

In the self-esteem movement suburbs, you see, no one is ever wrong. You can drive on the wrong side, yell at someone, and still it’s their problem. Problem is, you can take the boy out of the city, but you can’t take the city out of the boy. Where I grew up in Chicago that whole episode would have been settled with a little rock-and-roll. Someone would have ended up with a bloody nose. And it would have been over.

I had a thought: Wouldn’t it be cool to strap on some gloves every once in a while and settle it ? Then again, maybe next time I can just wait. Zen, baby.

Posted on October 6, 2008
Filed Under Frank's World | Comments

Comments

  • Why do you think age leads to calm? Not true with me. I rage more often then in my youth. Didn't you see Grumpy Old Men and GOM II?

    A course in manners should be required in school and for those out of school at major events like driver's liscense renewal.
  • I used to be worse...I just hate it in our area when people are wrong but try to turn it around. Republicans, if you know what I mean.
  • Free legal advice: don't punch anyone in the nose, no matter how richly they deserve it! Your karma may vary.
  • Lex, I take that under advisement...I was tempted, but am old enough to know better.
  • you shouldn't start fights. BUT, you should be the one to end them if they do pop up ;)
  • I'm more along that line...it could have been so simple...no cutting in line, no yelling on me, and this is no deal at all. But I've been locked and loaded for years. It's why I walk away.
  • Frank,

    I am with you, brother.

    I am over six feet tall and (if you did not know better) you might think I was a thug on first sight. I can talk in South Philly "Yo, Frankie, is dis da mook who fucked wit ya de udder day?"

    Ha! Those suburban punks will go running!

    Man, I hear you though, we have that same kind in Joisey ... the world would be so much better with out people.

    I hate it when doves cry.
  • Pax, you and me, brother, we can lay down a little city justice on these suburban types. I just don't take any shit, even if I'm am old dude. Some habits are hard to break.
  • Rich Mennenoh
    Frank,

    Man that is so you!

    I think I was with you once (back in our younger days) when you jumped out of the car and pounded on some guys hood. I'm laughing about it but like Rick said, I'm starting to become less tolerant of bad behavior.

    Maybe you should invest in one of those heavy bags that boxers use. Hang it in the basement and when you get the urge, go beat the hell out of it.
  • Tuna, yeah man, you were with me during many times my "less mature" days. I'm still that same dude...and I love that idea of the punching bag....I might seriously do that...and I might burn off the energy. Too funny.
  • The way people drive these days, well, who can blame you.

    Yes, it would be satisfying to punch some people out some days. But, the we just hurl our hell energies instead. It saves on getting hauled in on an assault charge.
  • Pinky Bear, that's so well said...."hurl our hell energies." I love that and I'm gonna use that with attribution to you tomorrow. ;-)
  • Strahan
    Nope - I am not buying.

    Here is my test. Would you rather be the guy who sits there and says - "what an asshole that third guy in line is", or be that asshole. The victory is in knowing that you are right and better.

    I think your thinking is how 10,000 limbs have been lost in Iraq.
  • I take that under serious advisement. I'm not proud of that reaction I had...I wish I had the constitution to let things go. I'm working on it. Just ever once in a while I like the blood pressure rise, though. You're right, taken to it's logical conclusion, machismo is no way to go.
  • The worst thing is that that guy, probably without realizing it, is already teaching his son to drive. He'll probable tear into him when he's 18 and comes home with a handfull of traffic tickets and a badly scarred vehicle. If he's lucky enough to come home.
  • Merci, the children are never wrong in this supercharged version of Lake Woebegone. Ugh...and you're right, I'm sure the kid is learning from his old man very well.
blog comments powered by Disqus