THE KINDNESS OF STRANGERS AND FRIENDS

The kindness of strangers came in when I took the wrong turn on an LA sidewalk.

It was a turn right or turn left choice and I turned the wrong way.

Another couple came out of the same door and turned the opposite way.

It was during a car return ordeal, which isn’t usually an ordeal, but there we were, my wife and I.

 

Me: Excuse me?

Them: Yes?

Me: Are you taking the shuttle back to the airport?

Them: We are.

Me: Is it this way?

Them: No, it’s the other way.

Me: We’re following you.

 

A nice simple exchange where I didn’t insist I knew the right way, which always scores points with wives.

Know-it-all husband? Not me. At least not then.

My direction was leading us from one pissy LA doorstep to another; the other direction following the people ended in hopping on a shuttle that was just getting ready to leave.

The god’s were smiling on us.

The hectic pace of cities eventually gets on my nerves, and I could feel it. One more wrong turn might be the last.

This was after listening to GPS the night before say, “Slide right in 800 feet.”

Slide right? Is that merge right, turn right, or what? Sliding is not in my driving vocabulary.

Why not, “Drift right?”

I got the same directions two days earlier on the way back to Manhattan Beach from The Getty when the 405 was backed up and we got surface street directions that included, “Slide right.”

I missed both times because I didn’t jerk the wheel as the last moment realizing my mistake.

Instead, I cruised through neighborhoods thinking of Tom Wolfe’s Bonfire of the Vanities, and not in a good way.

As a married baby boomer I’m not interested in experiencing the nightlife of wrong turns in the wrong neighborhood.

Or an accident with a jerky wheel move.

My motto is ‘get out, get back’ nothing more, nothing less.

The kindness of strangers at the last possible obstacle, the car return, filled me with unexpected joy, unlike the ‘slide right’ bullshit.

Help a brother out, GPS.

 

The Kindness Of Friends

What happens when you meet up with friends after thirty years in between the last time?

It’s a beautiful feeling of enduring friendship.

That’s what I saw with my wife and her childhood friends.

If I ever wondered about her life growing up in Los Angeles, and I haven’t but if I did, I wouldn’t anymore.

They were the most outgoing, welcoming, people.

So I wasn’t the only one to see her special side? And it started early?

They were just who she said they were, and she was the same person they remembered.

I figured it all out with my keen listening skills.

Best of all, I got to meet folks who’ve lived in LA their entire lives, from her family friends to her neighborhood friends.

They made me think, ‘if they can live here and thrive, what’s the problem?’

The problem is perception. No one lives the same life portrayed in the media.

Not everyone is a movie star; not everyone is living on the street.

There’s a broad section of people doing the best they can, and it’s a wonderful thing to see.

 

Driving It Home With The Kindness Of Strangers

From flea market to freeway, I looked for that old kindness.

No pickpockets, no scammers, no crashers, no dashers, just locals making it all look easy.

Heads up, it’s not easy.

 

Wife: Could you just relax.

Me: I’m relaxed.

Wife: I see your arms tensing up.

Me: It’s relaxing tension for driving the big roads.

Wife: That’s got to sound odd even to you.

Me: I have goals, honey. Right now my goal is driving at night on an LA freeway without a problem, and you’re starting to sound like one.

Wife: Could you at least slow down.

Me: Not with cars passing me on both sides. That usually means I’m going too slow, even in LA traffic at night. Could you focus on directions, not my muscle tension.

Wife: You’re jerking the car all over the place.

Me: This road is uneven. I’m just driving on it like everyone else. If you’d like to help, could you do it quietly.

Wife: Then you wouldn’t hear me.

Me:

GPS: Slide right in a quarter mile.

Me: What’s that supposed to mean? We missed it last time in broad daylight.

Wife: I think that was it back there.

Me: %@#*!^&#$@

Wife: Let’s all calm down.

Me: I’m not blaming you.

Wife: Not what it sounds like.

Me:

Wife: Could you relax your arms?

 

PS: Be yourself with friends and strangers. Save the performance part for your auditions.

PSS: From the kindness of friends and strangers, I’m thinking about making some improvements myself.