I’ve been thinking about this for awhile. In fact I wrote this a few weeks ago but then my niece became an escaped felon and I put it on the back burner.

Here’s the problem with being a friend of mine .

If you say something stupid I’m going to write about it.

Fortunately, I don’t have that many followers. Unfortunately the ones I have probably know you.

As is happening more often than I’d like, another long time friend of mine and dave’s, died recently. I guess that is bound to happen at my age.

Naturally I was sad to hear this but he really did live his life on his own terms and always did just what he wanted to do.

When another friend called to discuss it with me one of the things we talked about was that dave and his wife would be coming to the memorial. I had heard that there would be no funeral.

When I said that I wouldn’t go, after all dave was way closer to him than I was, my friend responded with;

“This may not be any of my business,”

(Good guess. If you’re saying that you’re almost always right.)

“But I think that you shouldn’t let their presence keep you from going to pay your respects to a long time friend”

“And you think I should do that why?”

“To show them that you’re the bigger person”

The conversation went on in that vein. I had plenty to say about that. The main point being why would I put myself in a painful situation just so those two would admire my ‘gumption’?

Given time to mull over that “bigger person” line I wondered how could he claim to know me and think that that would be a goal of mine?

Even when it looks like I’m taking the high road I’m probably not.

Example:

The other day I was driving my car in unbelievable traffic. I’m not the best driver and since I have a new car I am really careful.

I was on Second Avenue at the cross street of  57th Street. The traffic was so heavy that in order to turn or pass 57th Street you’d have to wait for 2 or even 3 lights to change.

My turn finally came and I slowly turned into 57th Street. The light immediately changed. I was facing east on 57th Street. Still in traffic I pulled up so that I was right next to a man in a car facing west on 57th Street.

He started screaming at me “What the fuck is wrong with you? Could you turn any slower?”

I looked at him and gave him a bright smile.

He went on “Are you sleeping behind the wheel?”

Still smiling I nodded yes.

Now if we examine this I could have responded with a “Fuck you” or simply given him the finger but I didn’t. I smiled which could only be regarded as the high road.

But was it? I left out one little part. When my response to his insults was a smile I thought he would have apoplexy.

My nodding “yes” to his inquiry as to whether I was sleeping made him turn all red. He started jumping in his seat and spitting all over his window.

I drove away feeling comfortable and happy that I had made one more enemy feel worse when he left me than when he encountered me.

I told you, everything I touch turns to gold.