It was a good day...again

I just had a train day (day when I do mass transit and don't drive to work), and I saw two of the coolest things I've seen over the past few weeks.

First, on the way to the train I saw a driver jibber-jabberin' on her cell phone (and yes, the driver really was a woman) at a freeway exit adjacent to the train station. She was waiting to turn right and either didn't see or didn't care that about the large sign above her traffic signal that read "No Turn on Red."

In typically Miami fashion she turned against the red anyway, causing an oncoming car to slow down dramatically to make way for her. Seconds later a motorcycle cop who sometimes stakes out that exit from under a nearby overpass turned on his sirens and lights and chased that numbnut down.

Yeah! The mouth breathers do get busted sometimes.

Second, while on the train I was doing my favorite commuting thing - reading a book. I'm on page 400 of Lawrence Sanders' The Second Deadly Sin. If you like old-school cop/murder mysteries this is a great one. And Sanders is one of the best. I'm a huge fan.

Anyway, I was reading, and I heard a young guy - maybe in his early 20s - about four rows up and across the aisle answer his cell phone and start talking. It's ironic. His subject matter wasn't bad. He was telling the person on the other line about how he was maturing and realizing that hot cars and hot clothes and hot tunes and hotter women weren't anything compared to stability in your life. He even cracked a joke about a friend of his with bad priorities who recently spent several hundred dollars on a new high definition radio, but that friend didn't even own a car to put it in.

The problem was this guy was really loud and every other word was a swear. Well, sitting right next to me was a woman with her grandson. He was probably six or seven. I know he was her grandson, because his mother had taken his other siblings to the upper deck so they could look out the windows.

After a few minutes of the phone call grandma calls out "Excuse me young man, I'm sitting here with a little boy. And he does not need to hear what you're saying or how you're saying it."

It took phone guy a second, but he realized what she meant. And would you believe it, he was embarrassed! He actually expressed shame, covered his mouth, stammered an apology, and carried on his conversation at a lower tone, minus the swears. And when he got up to exit the train at the next station, he stopped at grandma's seat and apologized profusely again.

Very cool. There's hope.

Also, my last post was one I started writing on Monday but didn't get around to finishing till today. So you may have missed it. It actually posted as two items ago. Give it a read. It's on a stupid political move in Florida.

Good even, and peace and hair grease. I'll post more tomorrow.

I'm not checking myself into rehab or anything, but...

I think I might be a little bit of a chauvinist. Not a women-should-be-barefoot-and-pregnant-and-baking-cookies-and-making-lemonade chauvinist.

I really don't like lemonade that much.

I kid, I kid. Seriously though, it occurred to me earlier today when a bad driver cut me off in traffic on the way to work.

I was driving. Another car whipped in front of me with about two inches to spare. I saluted that car, and then I muttered to myself that "she" was a terrible driver.

A few minutes later, as per the ebb and flow of traffic I ended up side by side with the same car. Turns out the driver was a man.

Bad driving is a pride sport here in South Florida, and when I'm on the receiving end of some numbnut driver my snap reaction is usually to say something smart about "her" behind the wheel.

Mrs. B opined the other day that I'm usually wrong. The other driver, the bad driver, usually turns out to be a man, she said.

After today, I agree that she's right. I'm usually wrong about my driver assumptions.

I don't know why I instinctively assume - again, usually incorrectly - that most of the bad drivers I encounter are women.

Maybe I heard men in my life dog women drivers when I was a boy? Nah. My dad is the silent stoic type when he's behind the wheel. Always has been, even when he has to slam on breaks or swerve to avoid a bad driver.

Maybe it's the brand of entertainment I subscribe to? I doubt it. The books I read range from mystery novels - many featuring female protagonists - to pop philosophy, like the Tipping Point. And the most blatantly biased TV I watch is South Park. And even that show's biases usually come with some sort of moral behind the story line.

I don't know why I do it. There's plenty of other stuff I blame on men, after I've jumped to a conclusion.

Luckily Mrs. B doesn't hold this one against me. Then again I do believe she once was given a warning for coming close to speeding. I've never gotten more than a parking ticket.

Ha!

PS. You guys hurt my feelings. No one went to the last post and read my most recent articles. We reporters are sensitive people, you know.