Walking back to work recently, some friends and I were about to use a clearly marked crosswalk when we spotted a driver speeding in a little red car. We had just stepped off the curb but I guess instinct kicked in and thus even before we consciously registered that this driver had absolutely no intention of stopping for us mere pedestrians, there we were, frozen, staring, mystified. And then as that red car streaked by, suddenly a wall of dirty water came at us like a tsunami. We hadn’t even noticed the giant puddle in the middle of the crosswalk. There wasn’t time. Despite the driver’s speed and carelessness AND the sheer size of the wave directed at us, we remained unharmed and dry.
This all occurred in about the time span it takes to count one-two-three.
Wow. Whoa. I looked at my friends: “did that just happen?” It was like seeing a unicorn, a blind unicorn driving a red car, a blind unicorn clearly in a state of emergency driving a red car like an ambulance.
Then one of my friends said, “I’m sure I could hear that driver yelling, wheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!” And then we all laughed for about five minutes. Partly because we weren’t dead but mostly because that describes this whole fat slice of nonsense EXACTLY. I retract my previous statement. That driver wasn’t a unicorn at all; that driver was more like a toddler who just discovered the very first puddle. And “wheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee” is why toddlers shouldn't drive.
There’s a lesson in that 77 year old clueless toddler. Dangerous? Yes. But I must say there’s something beautifully clueless about this memorable moment too. It was like witnessing a human declaration of stupidity, an abandonment of numbing common sense, like yelling from a mountaintop, “So what if the world wants me to act a certain way! Don’t people realize there are puddles to drive through?!”
I guess what I’m saying is this: doesn’t everyone need a moment like this every once in a while?
Sometimes all one can do is shake one's head. And chuckle. And remember that without chuckling, it's harder to happy. Plus it's much harder to notice (and/or drive through) all those awesomely big mud-luscious Spring puddles.