This morning I left for my regular sixty five mile drive to work. It was a cool and heavily overcast due to the overnight much needed thunderstorms that rolled thru. The drive is pretty boring, just rolling hills and little to see. In this stretch there is a thirty mile section, I deem, a true ‘no mans land’. Not a thing but fence line and the occasional farm house.
Any local knows you had better be good on gas or you’ll be hoofing it. It is all to common to see at least a couple of autos left on the side of the road from the overnight traveler who knows no better. The past five years I have stopped and helped with flats and gave rides to the next stop up the road. I used to not do this but one day my mind wondered if maybe I was passing an angel or a test from above. Just the big guys way of seeing my compassion to my fellow man.
I have always been shown heart felt thanks. The kinda thanks seen in their eyes, that calming relief that someone cares, even if you’re a stranger. I have always made sure they had a ride back or at the very least was put into contact with someone I trusted to help them. I always leave with a comfort that feeling the same way.
Much like the other times, I began to notice the image of someone on foot. I didn’t remember seeing a car or truck but that didn’t seem to matter. I pulled to the shoulder rolled down the window and asked if a ride would help. They accepted. He appeared to be in his mid to late twenties, a little on the lean side. I told him that I didn’t notice his car but would gladly get him to the next stop. He didn’t speak much, only when spoken to, almost nervous like. I had seen it before but this was a tad different. I asked if he’d run out of gas or had the problem been more mechanical. He stumbled for words but did get out the ‘not sure’, that began to put me on guard.
We were about ten miles from the truck stop when he pulled his knife. This time, his voice was direct and clear. He wanted my wallet. I told him that I was a working stiff just getting by like some many of us are. I assured him that what ever cash I had I would give but my wallet, with all the cards, I.D. and pictures of my family -- NO -- that was to much. He wasn’t happy at that reply and again pointed the knife closer to me. NO -- the money wasn’t a problem, hell I’d gave it to him had at least a good sob story, but I wasn’t going to take off from my productive tax producing day to replace these items he demanded me surrender.
Mrs. Jones is still at my side. She is heartless. The Terra-Mako allows this other woman in my life. Maybe because she has a Mr. Smith in hers. He is all steel and no sex appeal, a real brute. On occasion they have been known to out dance us.
Bill Nye, the Scientism Guy Gets Serious - Bill thinks a bare, two child replacement family in the West is too great a burden on the planet. His solution illustrated.