Who Wants My Dinner?

There was a recent op-ed piece in the Boston Globe about how Massachusetts is looked down upon by much of the country. Of course, it's an editorial so I'm not sure how entirely true it is. Maybe you can enlighten me. Either way, I don't care. Personally, the fact that this country is more looked down upon by other countries is more to be concerned about.

A number of reasons were pointed out as to why we are under scrutiny, and why, as the article points out, so many of us leave. Political climate, rising costs of living and home values, and general stereotypical attitudes about the people, to name a few. Like our edge. How we have our own rules for driving. Case in point. A scene yesterday when I was at a 4-way stop with one other car. He had the right of way. And so I waited for him to go. He never went. I waited a little longer and when he didn't budge, I assumed he was letting me go first and so I took my foot of the brake. I guess the movement of my car woke him up from whatever daydream he was having because that is when he decided to go, too. He started to move as I passed the front of his car, and beeped at me because I apparently cut him off. And I yelled (out loud in a car where all the windows were closed), "You didn't move!" (Of course, I wouldn't have yelled if there was a chance he would hear me.) It made me feel better. And it justified my actions. To myself atleast.

That incident and my reaction to it reminded me of the op-ed piece and how maybe we are what they say we are. We can't be the only ones with an edge. It can't be just us, right? How could this state be under so much criticism when there is so much here to be desired? The history, the culture, the personalities. Our weird obsession with our sports teams that some describe as scary. Someone once said that if 100 people were plucked from around the country and immersed in our culture for a year, they would love it. And I agree. And although I would love to have the chance to experience life living in New York City or DC or Chicago, I know it wouldn't compare.

But then something happened that changed any doubts I had. A car accident that we sort of witnessed last night. Ken and I were sitting on the couch when we heard a loud screech, followed by a crash. We both looked at each other, and without saying a word, jumped up and looked out the window. Ken called the police to let them know and we headed outside and to the main road to see what happened. We joined others who must have also heard the crash and watched as police cars rushed to the scene.

Apparently (this was our guess), a car drove out of a side street without stopping and the SUV that was on the main road heading in her direction saw her and tried to stop but instead drove right into her door. We guessed the driver at fault who was coming out of the side street was in her late teens or early twenties, judging by a graduation cap tassel hanging from her rearview mirror. To call her shaken up would be an understatement. But she was walking okay (as was the other driver) and so for that we counted her blessings for her, since we didn't think she was in any frame of mind to think to do so herself. We asked if she was okay and if she needed a phone or a bathroom and so she went into a nearby house to clean up and call her parents. The older driver finished up giving his information to the policeman, used his cell phone to make a call and when the woman came back to the accident scene, asked if she was alright and if she wanted something to eat, as he had just picked up some takeout.

And it made me smile, as I was reminded of the article once again. Standing there, among an ambulance, a tow truck, and several police cars with flashing lights illuminating the sky, glass shattered all over the street, and surrounded by various witnesses and curious onlookers, it made me think of one point wasn't discussed.

We may get easily frustrated. And yes it is true we have an edge. But when you put us in the worst possible circumstances and ruin our day, we'll still offer you our dinner.