Visibility: Ten Miles, Unobstructed

I'm sitting at a four way stop in the middle of the desert, wondering to myself why there is a four way stop in the middle of a desert with miles of clear, unobstructed view.  Where's the massive traffic the highway safety board seems so concerned over?  What is more confusing is why the old guy ahead of me is studying both directions like he's in the middle of a Seattle commute.  He must know something I don't, or he's an idiot.  Who am I to judge?  But, either way, I'm late and God is, once again, teaching me patience.  I'm sure my patience will be rewarded when this guy moves and I can leisurely pass him, doing thirty, on this empty strip of desert highway.

This is the guy you want with you when facing a "fight or flight" situation.  He's the one still considering the angry bear's intentions as you're slowly exiting stage left.  Why would the bear want to give chase when it has Joe Bag O'Doughnuts just standing there?  Whether he knows it or not, and probably not, he's bear poop.  

Same desert, different intersection, this time with a yield sign on the short right hand merge lane. The guy ahead of me and the chopper behind are the only other vehicles I've seen for ten minutes. The Gremlin ahead is doing about fifteen MPH into the yield we all seem to be taking.

He looks left, as do I.  I'm looking to ensure the owner of a Gremlin isn't too blind to see there is still no traffic for miles, a fact I took note of about a quarter mile from the intersection.  I see red lights peripherally and immediately hit my brakes assuming the Gremlin driver has seen something I missed.  I realize, too late, his driving ability was right down there with his taste in vehicles.  This inept driver has stopped halfway into the merging lane, for no damned good reason.  I literally stand up on the brake pedal with both feet while gritting my teeth and white knuckling the steering wheel.    

My brakes locked and the tires were screaming that, oh so satisfying, scream which says you've just shortened your tire life by several hundred miles or so.  Brakes and tires still complaining, I check my rearview mirror, more concerned for the life of the motorcycle rider behind me than any vehicle damage that was going to occur.  I just have time to notice he's no longer there before I hear him, to my immediate right, gun his engine and launch the Harley over the low berm to the soft desert floor ten feet below.  The last I see of his beer fed girth is the insignia of a local desert biker club emblazoned on the back of his leather vest.  I close my eyes tight bracing for the impact, thinking, "Oh, shit," on several levels.

Meanwhile, the other driver and I complete the inevitable fender bender, mitigated to dented bumpers due to the great set of brakes in my brand new, red, 1974 Datsun pickup that set me back $4,500.  I was shaken up.  But, where I was a tad upset with this driver, I let the biker handle the ass chewing as I could tell he was seriously pissed off by the way he threw his leather gloves to the ground before climbing back up the berm, walking right passed me, and getting up in the other drivers grill while spitting nails.  Ouch!  When he was done giving the other driver a piece of his mind he turned and looked down at the minor dent to my bumper, smiled, then silently shook his head as he headed back down the berm to retrieve is ride.  I felt lucky, for the second time that day.  

That day I discovered a design faux pas of the Gremlin, other than being just butt ugly.  The rear bumper seems to be tied into everything underneath.  The dent in the driver's bumper, which he shook off knowing he had screwed up, was nothing compared to the damage I saw underneath his vehicle, and kept to myself because I also knew he had screwed up.  Looking back, perhaps I should have told him.  I'll answer for that small omission down the road, I'm sure.

These are the same people that God sets as tests to our patience every day.  We're behind them at any intersection as the light turns green and they daydream or pick their nose.  We speed up behind them in the fast lane on any highway where the speed limit is 70 and they're doing 35 while they pet the dog in their lap, and 35 is faster that the 20 they entered the 70 MPH highway at.  You know this because you were behind them on that ramp and risked the lives of yourself and the drivers around you to prevent being a meat and metal sandwich between "pokey" and the chrome grill of the 18 wheeler trying to mate with your trunk.

These are the people in the express line at Walmart waiting until they get their total at checkout prior to even looking for their checkbook in the suitcase they call a purse, and then they complain about something that was obviously due to their lack of diligence. And, as luck would have it, they have to be in front of you in the crowded order line at McDonald's, waiting until they hear, "Can I help you?" before even attempting to glance at the menu board.

God bless their lil' hearts!

They are, inevitably, the people that can't seem to chew gum and walk at the same time, yet they think they can eat, or put on make-up, and drive.  They think they can walk and text, or drive and text.  They run when the police say stop, and they pull a knife when the cop has a gun.  You know their parents, too, as they're the one's screaming foul at the police and society for their shortcoming as parents and their child's inability to respect the rule of law.  These people are the inept thieves that write the bank robbery note on the back of their own deposit slip.  They travel through life seemingly oblivious to anything happening around them, or for those they inconvenience because of their seeming inability to live life with thought, vigor, and purpose.  They are the people we tend to say a prayer for, everyday.

On the flip side of the coin, we have those bulls in the china shop; those people that just push their way through life with the same disregard for people and events around them.  I equate these people to the guys riding the "crotch rockets," those uncomfortable looking racing motorcycles that easily reach the speed of sound.  They zoom in and out of traffic, tailgating, cutting people off, and running red lights.  These people rarely wear the appropriate outfit for riding a motorcycle, probably because they realize the inevitable accident, especially at those speeds, will ultimately result in them being an organ donor for the rest of us.  No stupid deed goes unrewarded, and God has a way of, sooner or later, weeding out the stupid.  God bless them for their donation to the greater good.

What is it that causes people, with all good intention, to make questionable decisions in obvious situations?  We can have a perfectly clear, unobstructed view of our life, aware of the rules in place and the simplest decisions we have to make, yet we still act like we're in a trance, staring like deer caught in headlights, mouth agape like a mindless simpleton, unable to move ahead, to make a choice to lead, follow, or get out of the way.  We become the hazards to navigation; the reasons for road rage, accidents, mayhem and death, and most times we are oblivious to all we cause around us unless we stare in our life's rearview mirror at the carnage in our wake, at which point we only wonder what we just missed, thanking God we are alive and have another interesting anecdote to share.  We consider ourselves to be the most intelligent of the species inhabiting this rock.  God help us, please.

Maybe it's time to park our vehicles and walk for a while.  If we find it so difficult to multitask our way through a motorized conveyance and actually have enough functioning grey matter to form enough constructive thought to allow us forward momentum, maybe we should rethink getting behind the wheel of a killing machine that requires a modicum of decision making and speed in our reflexes and reaction time.  God forbid considering the purchase of a firearm.  However, since creative thought defines our very being, it would seem prudent for most of us to just stay in bed and vegetate, something for which many of us show an unwavering proficiency for anyway.

If we do decide to walk, maybe we should try doing it with some sense of purpose.  Pay attention to what is going on around us and try thinking a few steps ahead so we can make an intelligent decision, choice, or judgment at the drop of a hat.

Don't move so slow that we risk going back in time.  If someone has to act like they know what they're doing, it might as well be us.  The other option, is that we become the obstacle others have to navigate around or run over; we can be the bear poop in the woods.

As for my attitude, I still need to work on patience.  God gifteds us with it, I should try to exercise it.  Patience is something I found to be a bit overrated, though.  It gets in the way of trying to make the most out of this short life I've been afforded by my Creator.  I prefer to exercise patience when I'm alone, walking on the beach, or with someone I care about.  When I'm with strangers, I assume they are also trying to make the most out of their short life and, if my efforts can't speed them along on their journey, I have the good sense, and courtesy, to get out of their way... or go around them.   

I can see clearly now, the rain is gone,

I can see all obstacles in my way

Gone are the dark clouds that had me blind

It's gonna be a bright (bright), bright (bright)

Sun-Shiny day.

-- Kenny Gamble and Leon Huff,  "I Can See Clearly Now" lyrics

Editor's Note 

(re: disclaimer cum "get out of jail free" card) 

Before you go getting your panties in a bunch, it is essential to understand that this is just an opinion site and, as such, can be subjected to scrutiny by anyone with a differing opinion. It doesn't make either opinion any more right or wrong than the other. An opinion, presented in this context, is a way of inciting others to think and, hopefully, to form opinions of their own, if they haven't already done so.  This is also why, occasionally, I will present an "opinion" just to stir an emotional pot.  Where it may sound like I agree with the statements made, I'm more interested in getting others to consider another viewpoint. 

It is my fervent hope that we keep open and active minds when reading opinions and then engaging in peaceful, constructive, discussion in an arena of mutual respect concerning the opinions put forth. After over twenty years with military intelligence, I have come to believe engaging each other in this manner and in this arena is the way we will learn tolerance and respect for differing beliefs, cultures, and viewpoints.

We all fall from grace, some more often than others; it is part of being human. God's test for us is what we do afterward, and what we learn from the experience.

Pastor Tony spent 22 years with Air Force Intelligence as a planner, analyst, briefer, and instructor. He is founder of the Congregation for Religious Tolerance and author/editor of the Congregation's official blog site, "The Path," which offers a vehicle for commentary and guidance concerning one's own personal, spiritual, path toward peace and the final destination.