Sometimes, no matter how hard you try to avoid them, negative confrontations come across your path. Whether it’s a run-in with a difficult and seemingly unreasonable boss, a meddlesome “friend” who you just can’t seem to please, or in my most recent instance, a black Mustang that recklessly strayed from its own lane. After swerving, honking, braking and doing virtually everything that could be reasonably expected of me in a split second to avoid the racy vehicular pony, there was sudden impact. Thankfully it all occurred at a low rate of speed and Jackie and Aubrey were fine. The female driver of the other car however, instantly sprung into action, tersely calling the police, madly snapping photos of the accident with her cell phone and acting like, well, a victim.
As the police arrived on the scene, I was calm and serene in the knowledge that when the accident was documented and the stories were told, the truth would prevail and a double helping of justice would be served in my favor. Fate, as it often does, had other ideas. The first policeman on the scene had Mustang woman move her car, which effectively eliminated the visual evidence of her lane violation, a second policeman arrived after this to record the evidence, Mustang woman told a falsehood-filled account of the happenings, and before I could say, “Good afternoon, officer”, I was being informed that this was all my fault and I was responsible for the damages. Calmy, still knowing that the truth was on my side, I asked the officer if he wanted to hear my side of the story. He half-heartedly listened before informing me again that, indeed, I was in the wrong. Twice more, to no avail, I tried to state my side of the details.
Now the old me (as in the first-40-years-of-my-life-me) would have simply given up and become resigned to the fact that quite often life is not fair, and sometimes you pay the price for things that are not really your fault. But then a switch tripped within me and everything came completely into focus. The accident suddenly, in my mind, was less about the details and more about basic principles, about personal responsibility. As if in fast-forward mode, a reel of recent events quickly ran through my mind – other happenings that, like this accident, seemed a bit uncomfortable and well, just not quite right:
• The recent story I read of a children’s soccer league that refuses to keep score and gives all the kids trophies “because we’re all winners in life”. (I meet people who are more talented and accomplished than me every day – it inspires me to do more, be more.)
• Magazines that plaster their covers with content indicating how they are “going green” yet continue to litter my floor with tons of wasted paper in the form of those annoying subscription cards that seemingly fall out of every page. (Don’t tell me you are environmentally responsible – show me.)
• The nauseating fact that Jackie and I, after striving for years to live within our means, may now actually be paying someone else’s mortgage.
• The troublesome dilemma of why, if G2 contains only 33% of the calories of regular Gatorade, it actually costs more . . . I think this was the one that bothered me most of all.
Snapping back into reality, I took a step back from the accident, and decided to try one last time. “Wait!,” I said firmly yet respectfully. “Just for future reference, if I am ever in this situation again . . . “ then I proceeded to once again describe what had actually happened but this time spoke as if I were describing an accident involving someone else. After completing the scenario, the officer paused for a moment, then said, “Well, now that would be different. Are you telling me that is actually what happened?” And the rest was history – and vindication. Almost like those one-hour TV shows that resolve the storyline all too conveniently in the final five minutes of the episode, Mustang woman admitted that yes, she might have been in my lane, may have been a little confused with where she was going, and also confused on the details. The responsibility of the accident, it was determined, actually rested with the woman who was unable to reign in her horse . . . er, car. Case closed.
As were driving home (with a drooping fender), Jackie and I talked about how all too often in life, it’s more convenient to sit quietly and watch things happen in front of you, even if you don’t feel good about them. Especially lately, it seems that the loudest people are the ones that are heard - and followed. We decided that now more than ever, it's important to speak your mind, no matter what your point of view, to ensure that you always live the life you want and not the one someone else thinks you should be living. I read somewhere the other day that we are all the scriptwriters of our own lives. Maybe now's the time to focus, be persistent when you know you're in the right, and make sure that every chapter is a positive as possible.
Thanks for reading. Remember to use those turn signals when changing lanes. And until next time, remember to pick up the pace and run your own race.
- Jeff
English translation? I am sorry! Yesterday's April Fool's ("poisson d'avril" in French) post created an instant firestorm of email replies, text messages, and voice mails. To those of you who instantly picked up on it, good catch. To those who didn't - GOTCHA! To everyone, je suis désolé. I KNOW there will be paybacks and I am sure I will end up French Fried.
