1. When did it become acceptable to run red lights?
I feel like this happens at every single intersection. I'm waiting at the light, ready to go straight. The turning lane gets the green, and people drive through. On the tail end, one person runs the yellow, then the next one runs the red. So we all end up waiting 3 seconds for Douchebag McGee to make his turn. It's not cool. I feel like it's gotten noticeably worse over the last couple of years. Sometimes I honk at those people, but of course, they don't know why. It's almost to the point that that's the standard. About a month ago, a guy in Clackamas got beaten up by another guy, because he wouldn't run the yellow. I'm not saying that's the norm, but it does make you wonder.
2. Am I the only one at the gym who's playing basketball because it's fun?
I went to 24-Hour Fitness last night with O, and we were having fun. Then a full-court game starts up, which I'm always interested in, and we start to play. And it's the same story every other time I go to the gym. We start to play, and there's one guy on each team who doesn't believe anything is a foul, or that anyone but himself is capable of scoring, handling the ball, or doing anything else, for that matter. A guy last night loudly announced that the rest of us weren't cutting through the lane enough, so he decided to start shooting every time down the court. He went 1 for 20 from three-point range in two games, while the rest of us continued to cut through the lane and get open. And when we had the ball, did he cut through the lane? No. And by the way, gym guy... you're not my coach, so don't complain as I shoot the ball... then act like you didn't when I make it. Don't stand motionless, 6 feet from me, clapping your hands for the ball.
Not only is this jerk a player and coach, he's also a referee! Amazing! I fouled someone on a layup, blatantly. He called, and I called it. And my teammate, who was at half-court, comes roaring downcourt, screaming that no foul was committed. You could see the body glove I left on the dude's arm, and my teammate is telling me I didn't foul the guy. You may not be surprised to know that we didn't win the game.
I give you, the reader, six gold stars for reading this self-serving blog.
1 comment:
Dear Max,
Since you haven't posted anything new, I assume because you were hoping this poignant post would attract more commentary, and also because I'm bored at work, I'll share some thoughts on driving philosophy that I had on my morning commute today:
I've been noticing every driver believes he or she knows the standard by which driving courtesy is judged by rational people everywhere. I was involved my daily heavy-traffic-lane-change game of chicken today. My philosophy is that I let one person in front of me and the next one has to find somewhere else. When a local driver and I clipped side-view mirrors and he shouted at me angrily in a foreign language, I thought of your post. I laughed at how my theory of driving courtesy differs slightly from his. And yours (I'm generally in favor of running red lights).
Rich. Freaking. Tapestry.
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