Turning Around

This morning as I changed lanes to turn into a driveway farther east in the parking lot of the complex of buildings that includes my coffee shop so that I could return a DVD to the local Hastings, a small hybrid-looking car passed me on the left, pulled in front of me and turned into the same driveway. I have no idea how fast she was driving. To me, all small vehicles, especially when they are zipping and zapping, look like they’re moving at high speeds. Probably not.

She appeared to be heading toward Wells Fargo. I speculated that she might be late for work or an appointment and needing some cash for the day. I continued toward the outside bin for rental returns, noticing that she had continued over to the parking area in front of Albertson’s Supermarket. I shook my head in some kind of disappointment that she had made a conscious choice to blow me off on the road and risk an accident, first thing in the morning.

I’m not a confrontational sort. Usually I just stew over would-be conflict or some kind of bruising, intentional and otherwise. Today I decided to leave myself the option of either saying or not saying something. As I headed slowly down the row toward her, she made her way toward the store. My window down and my arm folded over the outside of the door, “Good morning,” I said. Her distracted face changed to a slight smile. She wore a dark charcoal-grey linen top and pants. It was casual dress, but we live in a casual world, especially here on the high desert.

“Good morning,” she replied.”

“Did you realize that I had my right turn signal on and you cut right in front of me to make a right turn”, I asked.

“I’m not surprised given the state of mind I’m in,” she answered. “I didn’t even see you.”

“It’s kind of hard to miss this rig,” I replied (a Ford crew cab truck).

“I’m out of it,” she continued.

“Have a good day,” I closed and drove on to Java Joe’s, my destination. I don’t know if she said anything further, like “I’m sorry.” Maybe she had already apologized, but if she did, I didn’t register the apology.

While volunteering in the afternoon for some gardening at The Reserve, my condo home here in Santa Fe, I related the incident to our condo manager, as we placed into its new hole the last rose we had pruned and dug up. “You were a lot nicer than I would have been,” he observed. I knew already that my response had been intentional. Although my initial reaction to being cut off at the pass was a little indignant, I really do avoid confrontation. No, I’m not afraid to stand my ground or take a stand, as anyone who knows me will testify. I have an incredibly strong visceral response to my sense of right and wrong. People who tailgate, lay to their horns, choose not to let you in to the traffic flow, name your own rude driver behavior, sometimes hit my hair trigger. But the reminder of what road rage does and what it doesn’t accomplish sits always at the back of my mind. No amount of getting pissed off leaves anyone feeling much better, and I doubt that it leads to much healing.

So I wonder what the female driver of the small car really had going on. Does she have a family member in the hospital or at home sick, has she been diagnosed with cancer, is she trying to decide whether to list her home for sale, has her husband just announced that he has a younger lover and wants a divorce, is her business in trouble? Or did she just not care that she whipped in front of me to turn right into the same parking lot for which I was aiming? I can’t possibly know, barring that she sees me some place, recognizes me, and fesses up, maybe even offers the apology that I either didn’t hear or that she didn’t offer.

What I can know is that whatever was going on with her is indeed going on with her. I had a choice, to be calm, take the opportunity to remind her that she had done something rude and potentially dangerous, and then move on. I triumphed over my indignation, and frankly, I’m grateful for whatever enabled me to do so. Recently I was introduced to a young singer—a prodigy for sure—named Johnny Lang. His career began when he was 13. Now he’s a ripe old 27. Lang’s latest recording, titled Turn Around, includes the track, Thankful.

"…Someones sitting in a prison cell/Wasting away in their own personal hell/Everybodys got their own story to tell/Ive gotta be thankful, thankful…

…Any one of these so easily could have been me/But if it had not been for grace and mercy who knows where Id be/Ive gotta be thankful, thankful…

And Im here to tell you that the secret of life is being…"

 Johnny Lang

Turning Around—Santa Fe New Mexico (May 5, 2008)

R. Harold Hollis