You are wrong, I am right, even if I am wrong

 

Ramblings of a Retired Mind

You are wrong, I am right, even if I am wrong

 

Yesterday, I was minding my own business in the right lane when a car veered in front of me from the left—zero turn signal. The urge to honk or extend a specific finger was overwhelming. Instead, I chose peace, breathed deep, and turned up the radio.

Moments later, a massive pickup truck came flying down the left lane. Before I could even think, where’s a cop when you need one? The truck cut hard into the right lane, cutting off my original offender. Clearly, turn signals are a lost art form.

The best part? The first driver, the one who had just cut me off, was absolutely furious. He lay on his horn, completely blind to the irony.

It perfectly captures the new normal: "Rules for thee, but not for me." We see this hypocritical projection in politics every day, where everyone accuses the opposition of the exact dastardly things they are doing themselves. I don't know when this became the cultural standard, but watching it play out on asphalt provided me with hours of pure entertainment. Seriously, where does it end?

It is not my job to fix this societal defect. I am merely an observer of the quirky human ego and the sheer foolishness of selective righteousness. Sometimes I feel the urge to join the chaos, but if I succumb to the madness, who will remain to set the standard for how we should treat our fellow humans?

Let’s be honest, nobody would listen to me anyway. So, I keep my thoughts to myself, especially when driving with my dear wife. Though I must admit, occasionally, even she breaks the silence to yell, “Honk the horn at that idiot!”




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