Feeling Groovy

Parking lot:

Trader Joe's:

The most cramped parking lot ever devised by man. It's as if Trader Joe's wants to prepare you for their thin aisles by creating a parking lot that only just barely allows adequate space for your vehicle.

I drive a Toyota Echo.

An impossibly thin, agile, comfortable, sub compact.

Even I have claustrophobia finding a spot.

I've had moments where I will change the dinner menu just because I don't want to deal with the hassle.

So there I am:

Parking Lot:

Trader Joes:

And I'm behind this old couple.

150 years old, give or take.

In an impossibly large truck.

Backing out of a compact space.

Slowly.

Terribly slowly.

Freakishly slowly.

And I hate them.

I hate them more than I've ever hated anything.

And because I have an eternity left to watch them,

I begin to love them.

To care for them.

To ache with empathy for every moment of their modern lives.

Because they are too old, and too slow, and they drive everyone else bat shit crazy.

And then the thought occurs to me that old people are amazing.

Not only have they done everything that I have ever done, twice over, but they have watched the world change and children be born, grow old, and die. They've driven cars with carburetors, paid with cash, and remembered telephone numbers. They've gone decades without A/C, micro brewed beer and internet porn.

Old people are amazing.

Except when I'm in a hurry.

Then eff em.

The only thing worse than getting stuck behind an old person, is getting stuck behind and old person who suddenly dies.

But then another thought occurred to me.

Children are amazing.

Except when I'm in a hurry.

Then eff them.

The only thing worse than waiting for a child to make ups its mind, or put on its effing shoes, is trying to explain to the police investigator why you had to hit your son with the coat rack that many times.

And then another thought occurred to me.

Stupid people are amazing.

The beauty they find in the simplest things. The way they laugh and enjoy what little life they have.

Except when I'm in a hurry.

When I'm in a hurry,

eff them.

I don't want to know anything about your life, I only want to know who you bank with so I can carpet bomb the people who taught you how to write a check.

And then a pattern emerged:

everything is amazing.

except when I'm in a hurry.

then eff everything. And eff everyone. And STFU, and GTFO and "Not tonight dear, I have headache."

Which never really happens.

Because sex, at least, is still amazing when you're in a hurry.

So the key to an amazing life:

Slow down.

And have more sex.

And somewhere between those two, buy an impossibly large truck and head to Trader Joes.