Innergiggler's Blog

Posts Tagged ‘Martin Luther King

One of LA’s major contributions to 20th & 21st century American culture is ROAD RAGE.  I caught this behavioral disease when I first moved out here – fortunately after some intensive 12 Step work – my RR has been diminished by 70%.  .

However, PARKING RAGE – is definitely indigenous to NYC with the fewest parking spaces per capita.  I’ve seen a lifetime of fisticuffs resulting from stolen spaces – including both parallel and side-by-side.

“Hey mothuhfuckuh I was waiting for that spot!  I was here first!”

“What’d you say about my mothuh?”  No I was here – you just didn’t see me, shithead!  You wanna do something about it?”

Growing up – I remember anyone who attempted to steal a parking space from my dad –  usually walked or drove away with their jaws in two or more pieces.  But my Dad’s fists will be another blog entirely.    

So it’s not surprising that when walking into Costco on Monday – loud screams and honking horns from the parking lot grabbed my immediate attention.   A rather large gray-haired/bearded gentleman emerged from his auto barely blinking at the man who was honking and screaming at him.  The unparked man’s frustration blind-sided his ego as he spurted out every curse word known to man and gang members.

Knowing the parking man’s ethic I wanted to jump right in and blast the bearded violator.  He breached  the rules of common decency – I wanted to leap on my soapbox  and do with my mouth what my dad did with his fist.  I wore out plenty of shoe leather marching in the sixties for civil rights – especially after Martin Luther King was assassinated; I rode on the peace train from NYC to Washington protesting the war in VN – and was tear gassed in front of the Hall of Justice petitioning for the release of Bobby Seale – uhm or was it Huey Newton?  Hey – I was in my early twenties and everything pissed me off.

That was forty years and a lifetime ago.  The parking mishap ended and I was left with all these “entitlement” feelings.  So I bought myself a hotdog – pulled out my ID card and marched into Costco more focused on getting one of their roasted chickens.   

THE END


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